


Hunt for the Werewolf

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: An X-File Case, Novel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-21
Updated: 2003-01-21
Packaged: 2019-04-27 05:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 50,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: An old college friend of Mulder's is in danger and while working the case, they are made to see how much they are missing and where they'll end up if they don't give in to their love for one another.





	Hunt for the Werewolf

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Hunt for the Werewolf

## Hunt for the Werewolf

### by Donnilee

TITLE: Hunt for the Werewolf  
AUTHOR: Donnilee  
**CATEGORY: MSR**  
**RATING: NC-17**

SPOILERS: Tiny ones throughout for Pilot, Rain King, Fire, The End Game, War of Coprophages, Triangle, Home, Arcadia, Never Again, Sein Und Zeit, Anasazi. 

SUMMARY: An old college friend of Mulder's is in danger and while working the case, they are made to see how much they are missing and where they'll end up if they don't give in to their love for one another. 

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

(A) The Salty Dog does exist, but not in Virginia. It's in New London, CT, or at least it was between the years of 1984 and 1986 when I lived there. Yes, I went there with my friend, Kate (whom I haven't seen in 10 years now) to check it out. No, it's not a lounge. Yes, it is a gay bar. Any other questions? 

(B) Bloomingdale, TN exists but the Mary Magdelen Cloister is my own invention. 

(C) The barbeque apron that makes a brief appearance in this story actually existed, hanging on the wall in a gay friend's kitchen. I laughed so hard when I saw it, I almost peed my pants. I attended a party there some time later and actually got to wear it once, amidst hoots and hollers of, "Look out! Breeder on the Barbeque!" A good time was had by all! I've been just waiting for the opportunity to slip that apron in somewhere! 

(D) I would like to give a nod to my friend, let's call him J! Over the past twelve years of our friendship, he has unwittingly given me a comprehensive and in depth understanding of alternative lifestyles and various sexual proclivities and orientations. NO! I didn't learn it from him THAT way! Get your mind out of the gutter! :=) But he is a true shining star of a friend who can always bring a smile to my face with his bubbly personality and penchant for self-deprecating humor. I learned from him that Size 13, leather pumps DO in fact, exist! 

A small example: I joined him to watch a movie one night and left my pocket book there. He called me later that evening, disguising his voice on my answering machine and saying: "You left your pocket book here, darling. And you're just going to have to come get it, because it doesn't go with ANY of the shoes I have!" THANKS: To my hubby, Bruno for beta reading! Shan was busy with another story and I wanted to get this out for the August challenge, so I called my hubby back into the saddle to help me get this one out! He was a trooper. Thanks, babe. 

**WHISPERS OF X CHALLENGE: AUGUST '01**

  1. Shelf that falls down - Check! 
  2. Sex on a Beach - Check! 
  3. LooneyTunes Coffee Mug - Check! 
  4. Unexpected Phone Call - Check! 
  5. Porn Mag - "Do Me with it Big Boy" - Not Mulder's - Check! 
  6. Character named Jamie - Check! 
  7. Black Ribbon - Check! 



* * *

**PART 1 (PG-13)**  
**J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING**  
**BASEMENT OFFICE**  
Friday Night 

I was a little worried about getting involved in this case. I had a vague sense of disquiet that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Skinner had briefed Mulder on some of the case before I got back from lunch, but Mulder had said he'd only given him sketchy details and he hadn't read the file yet. 

He was finishing up a report on our last case while I was reading the new file. 

Operators from the Dial-A-Dream 1-900 service in Virginia were disappearing without a trace, presumed dead as none were being found. Finally, when one of the girls' pocket books had been found in Tennessee, the FBI was called in. Since this now crossed state lines, we had jurisdiction. 

After reading the file and some of the statements from the other girls at the service, which were vague at best, I turned to my partner. 

"These girls that are disappearing all work for a 1-900 service. Did Skinner tell you that?" 

"Huh?" he looked up at me. "No, he didn't. Just said it was an X-File because of some of the witness reports and there were five missing persons already. Didn't really tell me much. I figured I'd read the file when I finished with this. I only have a few more sentences here and I'm done." 

"O.K., finish up," I told him. I continued to read. When he sighed and turned off his computer, I knew he was done. 

He swiveled in his chair to face me and said, "All right, partner, what have we got?" 

"You ever use Dial-A-Dream, Mulder?" I asked, trying to make a joke. 

He had an odd look on his face. I heard him mutter, "Oh damn." 

He jumped out of his chair and nearly grabbed the file out of my hands. He scanned the summary sheet on top. "What is it, Mulder? 

He was already reaching for the phone. I stopped him. "Mulder! What is it?" I nearly shouted. He stopped and looked at me. 

"I need to make a phone call." 

"Where do you think we should start, Mulder?" I asked. "Should we recanvas these operators?" 

He shook his head. "No. I need to call Jamella." 

"Jamella?" 

"An old friend of mine." He looked slightly frantic. I felt my gut twist. Who was Jamella? One of the operators? I wondered. Or was she another old flame of his that I knew nothing about. I was getting a little tired of all these old girlfriends popping up. The chick in Kroner, Kansas was bad enough. Phoebe turned me several shades of the green with her phony come-ons. Bambi the Bimbo had also made my green eyed monster rear its ugly head. But Diana had to be the worst. That two timing bitch was no longer a problem. Uncharitable thought, I chastised myself, seeing as how the woman was dead. 

But it seemed one woman would drift out of his life only to be replaced by another. My reactions were getting worse each time. I knew the time was coming when I was going ot have to face up to my feelings and my attraction for my partner. I just didn't know how to do it. 

Mulder reached for the receiver of the phone but then pulled back and reached into his back pocket, extracting a little magnetic billfold. I'd never seen it before and raised an eyebrow at him. He pulled the two magnetic parts apart and it opened up like an accordion. Rows of tiny names and numbers appeared written down the tiny pages. It was a mini telephone list or ... a little black book for all intents and purposes. I swallowed. He shrugged and ran his finger down the lines. "Been a while since I called. Believe it or not, I don't remember the number." 

He finally stopped on a number and picked up the receiver. I cut in, "Mulder, you didn't answer my question. Who is Jamella?" 

"An old friend." 

"Care to elaborate?" 

"Not really." 

I couldn't help flashing him a dirty look that must have turned pained because he sighed, his hand on the disconnect button and said, "She works for this service. I want to know she's all right. And she's also an inside bet for us. She will talk to me." 

"She's a 1-900 operator?" I asked, unable to keep the disdain out of my voice. 

"She only does that part time," he defended, sounding a little offended. 

"Does she know you from calling the service?" I asked, knowing immediately, I shouldn't have asked. 

Now it was his turn to give me a dirty look. "No, I don't use this service, precisely because she does work there." 

He didn't use THIS service. He didn't say, 'I don't use these services or these kinds of services'. He just didn't use this one. I wondered how he knew this person. 

I heard him speak into what was obviously a machine. "Jamella, this is Fox. I know it's been a while. But I've been assigned to help out on this case of disappearing girls where you work. Can we meet privately and talk? Call me. Let me know you're all right. I still have the same cell number. Or until 5:00 PM, you can reach me at work at 555-0202, Extension 123." 

He hung up and turned to face me. I turned away and looked down at the reports in my hand, feigning interest. I could sense his regard like a hot beacon on the side of my face. He'd said, 'This is Fox.' Not Mulder. This is Fox. Damn it. Why could everybody on the fucking planet call him Fox except me? This person must be very close to him for him to use his first name. Then again, Mulder and Scully were who we were now. I didn't feel any distance because of calling him Mulder. 

After several moments of silence, he said, "Why don't you tell me what's bothering you, Scully? Or ask what you want to ask instead of getting all bitchy on me. Can you just ask what you want to know for once?" 

"I'm not bitchy, and I don't want to know anything," I replied, without looking up. 

Then he said something he'd never said before. He usually let it go when I was like this. I looked up at him when he didn't say anything dismissive, like 'all right, then.' 

As soon as my eyes met his he said, "Bullshit!" 

Then he turned and began reading his e-mails. 

I was floored by that one word said with so much anger. He'd nearly spit it out. Tears stung my yes. He was obviously fed up with my evasive maneuvers. He knew it was personal. That's the only time I got evasive. It hurt him when I hid from him like this, as though I couldn't trust him with my feelings. If I could trust him, who could I trust? I was so confused sometimes. And more lonely every day. My life with Mulder was all I had. Without it ... well, I didn't even want to think about that. Maybe that was part of the reason I felt so threatened by anyone who could potentially take him away from me, even for a little while. 

I swallowed hard and decided I was sick of it too. I hated feeling this way, like I'd hurt him simply because I wasn't brave enough to say what was really on my mind. And what I had with Mulder wasn't enough any more. 

I cursed the ragged sound of my voice and asked, "Who is she Mulder? Is she another old girlfriend?" 

I was ready to kill him when he threw his head back and laughed heartily. I wasn't amused that he found my questions so humorous. Damn him. He knew how hard it was for me to ask things like that. And now he was going to embarrass me and rub my nose in it besides. "Damn it, Mulder! I'm trying!" I shouted. 

His mirth died down and he looked instantly contrite. He swung around in his chair and said, "I'm sorry, Scully. I don't know why you thought that, but I can't even tell you how wrong you are." 

I felt color creep up my neck in embarrassment. I hoped it wouldn't blossom over my face. I'd tipped my hand now. He knew I was interested in if this woman was an old flame. And what did that say about my feelings for him? He would read into it. And why shouldn't he? 

He was quiet and then surprised me by saying, "Scully, you don't need to worry about that ... ever. No one can take your place in my life." 

Was he reading my mind? 

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice raising an irritating octave above normal. 

"I mean you don't ever need to be jealous." 

"I'm AM NOT jealous!" 

He just chuckled, and then said, "Whatever. You don't need to worry." 

"I'm not worried. I was just curious." 

"Sure, how silly of me," he replied sarcastically, as if the idea of me being jealous over him was ridiculous. If he only knew how very jealous I'd been in the past. How the mere thought of this woman from his past was making me want to pee on my territory. I didn't think I could take one more woman from his past. 

What else could I say? I didn't matter because just then the phone rang. He picked up the phone and said, "Hey, J. Just a sec, going to put you on speaker phone so my partner can listen." 

He hit the button for hands-free on the phone and voice, low but soft and mellow sailed out of the phone. I was confused for a moment by the androgynous voice that was oddly alluring. After the first few words, however, I realized Jamella was a man. If I wasn't embarrassed before, I was now. 

"Foxy! You don't write, you don't call! What's a girl to think?" 

"I've been busy, Jamella." 

"Busy, busy, busy, busy, busy," the voice replied, in a sing song voice laced with sarcasm. "What darling? You're so busy you can't even make a phone call?" 

"Sorry J, it's been a rough year." 

"I'm tired of your excuses. You only call me when you need me for something. Is your partner there?" 

"Yes," I answered. "This is Agent Scully." I was trying hard not to choke on my amusement. 

Mulder was already laughing silently at my utter humiliation. I couldn't even blame him. I gave him the look that said, 'You could have warned me!' 

The voice asked, "Agent Scully, is that any way to treat a lady? I ask you, one femme to another, does this man have ANY manners?" 

I laughed out loud. I couldn't help it. "No, he doesn't. But don't take it personally. He has no manners with me either." 

"For SHAME!" the disembodied voice responded. "So tell me, Fox, anybody capture that raisin you call a heart yet?" 

"Me to know and you to find out," Mulder quipped. 

"Bet that partner of yours has it. You've never stayed with anyone this long. When do I get to meet the competition anyway? I want to meet the woman that took you away from me." 

I laughed again and Mulder made face, now becoming irritated. "Jamie, watch your mouth." 

"Uhhhh," I heard a gasp of unparalleled dissatisfaction. "That was a low blow, G- Man." 

I assumed Jamie must be this ... person's ... real name. "What's good for the goose ..." Mulder replied, his voice trailing off. 

"Oh sweetheart, I wiissshhh!" 

I laughed now as Mulder blushed, shaking his head. It took a lot to make Mulder blush. In seven years, I think I'd only seen it a couple of times. 

I couldn't resist joining in the bashing session. "What Jamella? You're not his type?" 

"No darling. 'Fraid not. We practice totally different religions." 

I laughed now. Mulder was still shaking his head in tolerant amusement and now biting the inside of his cheek. 

"Different religions, huh? You're not Jewish, then, I take it?" I asked with a teasing lilt in my voice. 

Her low pitched voice let loose with a sultry laugh that made my face split into yet another smile. When her laughter died she said, "G-Man, I like her. She's got spunk." 

"She does have that," Mulder replied, smiling at me. 

"So you want to meet with me after not calling for nearly a year. And I'm supposed to drop everything and make room for you?" 

Mulder cleared his throat. "J, listen, I really need your help. I'm sorry I haven't called." 

"Oh dear," he said, sounding resigned. "That can only mean trouble. What do you need?" 

"We need to meet with you and talk first, ... in private." 

"Private? Shall I rent a room at the D.C. Marriott, darling? I'll buy!" 

Mulder chuckled again. "I need you to be serious for one minute here." 

"I've never been more serious in my life, doll." 

I grinned, offering no support when Mulder flashed me his kicked puppy look, asking for help. Anybody who could get away with calling Mulder, 'doll', was O.K. in my book, as long as she wasn't an ex-girlfriend. 

_J_ sighed heavily and then said, "All right, meet me tonight at the Salty Dog, 8:00 PM. Don't be late." 

"I'll have my partner with me," he said, raising an eyebrow at me in question. I nodded. 

"Lovely. We can finally meet and compare notes." 

"God help me," Mulder groaned. 

"Where is the Salty Dog? I've never heard of it." 

J laughed outright and said, "No, I don't imagine you have, girlfriend. It's a lounge for US, if you must know." 

"US?," I said, rethinking my agreement to go with Mulder. I shook myself. I would not be intimidated. 

"Transvestites!" she whispered conspiratorially as though it were a bad word. 

This could be fun. I asked, "Where do you know Mulder from?" 

"Mulder? You mean he kept up that nonsense of having you call him by his last name?" 

I stiffened. "Yes, we do that. He calls me Scully. It's just the way we are." 

"Silly," she said firmly. Then, "Anyway, don't be afraid, I'll protect you. You'll be my special guests. I'll tell Ramone to watch the door for you." I realized he had never answered my question. 

"Thanks," Mulder replied flatly. 

"And do me a favor, FoxMan?" 

"What's that J?" 

"Don't dress like a fucking FBI agent, please. Not that I don't love your fine ass wrapped in Armani, but you won't last two minutes at the Dog dressed like a G- Man. They'd chew you up and spit you out. Besides, I do have an image to uphold." 

I pressed my lips together tightly to avoid letting another guffaw escape. Mulder asked, "How should I dress?" 

"Casual but sexy. Like you're going on a date with a woman you love." 

"I'll dress sexy just for you, J." 

"You're a damn tease, you know that?" she said. It was a rhetorical question. I happened to agree with her. Mulder was one of the most unconsciously sexy men I had ever known. He had to know he was good looking, but I really didn't think he was vain about his looks. He didn't seem to realize the impact they had on most women. 

"What else? Anything else I have to know, except to dress for the one I love?" He glanced at me and had an odd look on his face. I raised my eyebrows. He asked J, "How should Scully dress?" 

"The same. You do own a dress, don't you girl?" 

"Yes," I managed to push out around the giant size ball of laughter that wanted to emerge. 

"All right then, dress like you are going on a date with someone you want to tangle up in the sheets later on." 

I choked and coughed behind my hand. 

"Jamiiieee ..." Mulder said in a voice that held warning. I wondered what that was all about. 

"Don't give me that tone, Mr. Man!" Jamella replied in a persnickety voice. "You can call the shots when you behave like a better friend. One phone call in ten months does make an attentive friend make." 

Mulder sighed. "Why did I know you wouldn't make this easy for me?" 

"Do I ever?" 

"No, I'll see you at 8:00. We still have work to do here." 

"Right-O. Ta, ta." The line went dead. 

Mulder looked up at me and bit his bottom lip. I shook my head in amusement. "I need to warn you that she's a match maker of the first degree. Been trying to set me up for years." 

"You could have told me about her." 

"That would have taken all the fun out of it." He grinned and I couldn't help smile in response. It seemed he'd forgotten my adverse reaction and I was glad if he was going to leave it in the 'dead and buried' file. 

"So what is this bar, really?" I asked. 

"It's a gay bar. But they host lounge acts. It's a nice place actually. J does a number." 

"He does?" 

"She." 

"She," I said solemnly and nodded my head. We smiled at each other. "So what's his ... uh ... her game?" 

"He's a drag queen. Likes to be treated as a female and referred to that way when he's Jamella." 

"I gathered that." 

"When he's not in drag, I call him J. It's generic. He doesn't like being called Jamie at all." 

"Where did you meet?" 

"Would you believe me if I told you Oxford?" 

"Really?" 

"Really. He was all male then, or appeared to be anyway, if a little effeminate. He dated seldom, but he did date some. Didn't come out of the closet until we were back in the States. By that time, we were two American misfits at Oxford that had bonded together. We've remained friends." 

"What did he study?" 

"Business." 

"And he's doing lounge acts and working as a 1-900 operator?" 

"We don't all use our educations, Scully. I think he went because his folks insisted, not because he really wanted to be there. She's very good at what she does." 

I wondered if Mulder noticed that he had switched from He to She when referring to Jamie. "When did you find out he ... she ... " 

"Was a gay cross dresser?" 

"Yeah." 

"About six months after returning the States. I was still going to the Academy and he invited me to see him perform. I had no idea where I was going. He'd sung in a chorale at Oxford. I knew he had a great voice. I really walked into a shocker." 

"I'll bet! It was a gay bar?" 

"Yeah." 

"She sounds smitten. Did she make a pass at you?" 

"God no! J knew I was straight. It would have ruined our friendship. And neither of us have ever had a lot of close friends to spare. I had a little trouble fighting off a few of his friends though," he admitted sheepishly. 

I laughed. "I'll bet." Then I paused. "She sounds like she wouldn't run if you decided to swing both ways though." I was just looking for something to say. I wanted to know more about this odd relationship. Mulder seemed to have an odd collection of friends. I mean, look at the Lone Gunmen! 

I would have to be careful not to trip up with the he/she thing. 

Mulder crinkled his nose. "No, she probably wouldn't. Then again, I don't know. We have a genuine affection for one another. She wouldn't want to mess that up any more than I would. " 

I wondered if he was drawing that parallel with us. 

"Not that it's an issue anyway. I'm straight as an arrow. Anyway, we've had an understanding for a long time." 

"And that would be?" 

"She can tease me, but if she ever puts the make on me for real, I'll flatten her dinky ass." 

I laughed. "Sounds like you were good friends. Not many people will tease you like that." 

"We ARE still good friends. I've been the bad friend. Not her. She's always been there for me. Even when things got rough around here." 

"She knows your proclivity for the paranormal." 

"Yeah, and she believes a lot of it." 

"Oh God. Another one." 

Mulder grinned at me. "You'll like her. And I mean HER. I usually call her J. It's easier than tripping over myself trying to remember to call her by another name. That was her nickname in college. I knew her before Jamella existed. I've gotten used to calling her SHE, but never to the name. I just called her Jamie to piss her off." 

"I caught that. Why did you do it?" 

"It's my signal that she's going too far." 

"I didn't think she was. I was rather enjoying watching her beat you up verbally. Not many people can do that." 

"You can," he said perfectly serious, neatly changing the subject. 

I smiled gently at him. "So, what are we going to do for the rest of the day?" 

"I say we call these witnesses that were already interviewed and set up appointments. I don't expect them to tell us anything, but it's worth a shot. I expect J will give me the real scoop though. They all talk to her for some reason." 

"Why's that?" 

"You'll see. She's easy to talk to, despite all the bluster and braggadocio. She keeps confidences and she takes people seriously, no matter how whacked they are." 

"That explains why you two are friends! If she can put up with whackos!" I teased. 

He laughed. "Low blow, Scully." 

"I don't imagine she can afford to be judgmental." 

"Well, she could be, but she prefers to be well liked, and she is. She won't be a hypocrite and judge someone else. She's been judged too often herself. She makes flippant comments but that's just her defense mechanism. When the chips are down, she's solid." 

"O.K., let's get to work planning our week. I have a feeling it's going to be a long one. Do you think there's something paranormal going on here?" 

"I don't know. They've found some sort of sticky substance at the apartments of each of the missing women." 

"Five so far." 

"Yeah. And so far, the lab hasn't determined what it is." 

"Is it green and toxic?" I quipped. 

He smiled. "No, we're waiting for the results. I expect it's a known substance." 

"Why are we taking this case then?" 

"Skinner gave it to us." 

"There's got to be more than that, Mulder. Don't try to hoodwink me. Why is this an X-File?" 

He gave me a look that said, 'Damn, I'm caught.' "You didn't read all the witness statements?" 

"No, I haven't had a chance." 

"Me neither. But Skinner said, well, they also found hairs at the scene." 

"Hairs," I repeated blandly. 

"Yes, hairs. Long, blonde hairs about six to eight inches long, baby fine." 

"Like a girl's, you mean?" 

"No, I mean like a baby's." 

"Babies don't have hair that long." 

"Exactly." 

I had a sudden feeling of uneasiness. "What are you not telling me?" 

He grinned sheepishly. "They all disappeared on a full moon or a new moon over the last two and half months." 

"Mulder ..." 

"What?" 

"What are you thinking?" 

He smiled his angelic smile of innocence. Mulder was a lot of things, but innocent wasn't one of them. "Let's see what J has to say. We'll go from there." 

"Tell me," I demanded sternly. 

"Those witness statement I mentioned, that make this an X-Files?" He didn't wait for an answer. "A couple of the girls who haven't disappeared have said... that they saw something." 

"Something," I repeated blandly again, coaxing him along. I was beginning to get annoyed. 

"Something big ... with hair ... hair all over it's body." 

I groaned, hanging my head. 

He continued. "When they saw it, it ran away but now they are all afraid of being snatched. They think this thing is what took the other girls." 

I spoke to my shoes. "Please tell me you don't think ..." 

He cut me off. "That's it's a werewolf?" he supplied calmly. I looked up. "Mulder, please ..." 

He grinned. "I don't think anything yet. But I want to check it out. And I'm worried about my friend. I love that exasperated look you get on your face, by the way. It's a killer." He chuckled again. 

I sighed, knowing there was no getting out of this. Besides, now I wanted to meet this friend. "Let's get to work." 

* * *

* * *

**PART 2 (PG-13)**  
**DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT**  
**GEORGETOWN, D.C.**  
**LATER THAT EVENING**  
7:15 PM 

I was nervous. I had no idea why. I was standing outside her door, wondering what she would think when she saw me. I'd taken an unusually long time getting dressed. Ultimately, I'd decided to wear a pair of faded black jeans with my black boots and black silk dress shirt with my leather bomber jacket. I'd left the top three buttons open on my shirt. I'd spiked my hair up with jell and put a diamond stud in my left ear. I hadn't worn an earring in ages. 

Years ago, for guys, earring in the left ear was an indication that you were straight. In the seventies, left was straight and right was gay. I didn't think that was the case anymore, but figured it couldn't hurt. 

I'd also slipped on a masculine gold link chain around my neck and a gold nugget ring on my right ring finger. I rarely wore jewelry, but I didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb tonight. Scully would stick out, no matter what. She would undoubtedly be the only woman in the place. But Scully didn't scare easily. 

I wondered how she would dress. Jamella had told her to wear a dress, but I didn't know if she would. I'd rarely seen Scully in anything but a suit or casual clothes. I was trying to remember if I'd ever seen her dressed for a night on the town when she opened the door. I hadn't even knocked. 

My jaw dropped when I saw her and I was surprised and a little elated when she gasped upon seeing me. Probably just the shock of seeing me in something besides Armani. 

She was wearing a black halter top dress that clung to her curves and criss-crossed over her chest to swath her breasts and then ran up to tie behind her neck. She swung the door open wider and I stepped in, still staring unashamedly and walked around behind her. 

God have mercy, the back of the thing was wide open to her waist. I could see her tattoo just above the waistline that hugged her snugly. All that Scully skin just begging to be caressed. My hand, having a mind of its own, reached out and I rubbed the back of my fingers over her tattoo. Her skin felt like spun silk. 

She gasped loudly this time and stepped away from me, whirling around. She was obviously taken aback that I had touched her. "Sorry," I muttered, examining the tips of my boots. 

She didn't say anything and I let my eyes drag over her feet which were sporting 3-1/2 'fuck me' pumps and legs encased in black nylons. I continued my perusal up the loose skirt of the dress and over her perky breasts which I now knew were not encased in a halter bra as I'd first suspected. I met her gaze and found her cheeks stained pink and her lips pursed in an odd fashion. 

Her eyes raked over me from head to toe and I saw her eyes go wide when they reached my head. "Mulder! You have an earring?!" she nearly shouted. 

I grinned. "I haven't worn it in years, not much opportunity. The FBI frowns on it, you know?" 

She smiled, reaching up and fingering my earlobe with her forefinger and thumb. I couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through me and she quickly retracted her hand. "Wow," she said, still seeming at a loss as to what to say. I could relate. 

Finally I said, "Scully, you look ... stunning." 

She beamed me a smile, teeth and all and I felt my heart turn over in my chest. Jesus, this woman was going to be the death of me. I grinned when I realized she was blushing a deeper shade of pink. 

Little did J know, Scully was the woman I was in love with. I think he suspected. As many as four years ago, I'd shared a lot of information about her with him. She'd been intrigued that I finally had a partner I could tolerate. She'd given me a knowing look as soon as I'd told her that Scully was a woman. 

I'd told her it wasn't what she thought and launched into my speech about our deep friendship and respect and she'd just given me that pursed lip look that said, 'Go bullshit somebody else.' I'd ignored it. I realized now though that when I'd talked to J in the past, I'd almost always talked of Scully, and not much else. 

"Ready to go?" she asked finally. 

"Yeah, let's go," I said, alarmed at the husky tone of my voice. 

I picked up her suitcase and followed her out. I reached down tentatively with my free hand to place my hand in its usual spot on her low back. When I encountered her skin again, I had to bite my tongue to keep from moaning. She'd jumped a little. I swear she did, but then settled into a leisurely gait as we rode down in the elevator and exited the building. I unlocked the door and held the door for her. She slipped in, her small black patent leather pocketbook with the long strap draped over one shoulder and hanging on her hip. 

When she pulled her legs up to fold them into the car, her dress rode up and I thought I saw lace appear about mid thigh. She shifted and then looked up at me, her dress falling back into place. She looked at me strangely. "Mulder, what is it?" 

I realized I was staring at her legs and jerked my eyes back up. "Nothing," I mumbled and shut the door, jogging around to the other side. I slide in and glanced over at her as I fired up the engine. 

She asked, "What were you looking at?" 

Damn, she wasn't going to let this go. Was she trying to kill me here? Was she enjoying teasing me like this? "I thought I saw ..." 

"Saw what?" she prompted, smiling evilly. 

"Damn, Scully." 

She just fixed me with her 'I'm not letting you weasel out of this one' look and I sighed. "I thought I saw ... stockings and it just ... surprised me, that's all." 

She smiled and looked down shyly. "I am wearing stockings," she said softly. 

My voice wasn't much above a whisper either. "And garter belts?" I asked tentatively. 

She shook her head. "Not with this dress, just thigh highs, there's elastic on the top." 

"Jesus, Scully, what are you trying to do? Kill me?" 

She giggled. "You like stockings, huh?" she asked, a little too casually. 

I grunted. "Almost more than I like air," I replied. 

She chuckled this time. "Drive, Mulder." 

I nodded and pulled out, concentrating on the road. I needed to get my mind off the fact that Scully was sitting beside me in that slip of dress, wearing stockings and garter belts and no bra. How was I going to get through this night without giving away my attraction to her. I already had, but she could brush it off at this point. 

Damn, I was semi-hard and I wasn't even looking at her, I was just thinking about what was under that dress, or wasn't, as the case may be. 

* * *

**SALTY DOG LOUNGE**  
**RICHMOND, VA.**  
**THAT SAME NIGHT**  
7:50 PM 

I almost swallowed my tongue when I opened the door to Mulder tonight. I was so flustered I forgot to ask him why he'd been standing there and not knocking. I'd been cruising into the living room, having finally gotten ready and stopped to look at myself one more time in the all mirror. I'd taken extra time with my make- up and I'd let my hair dry into soft waves rather than straightening it. Then I'd gathered it up on the back of my head in a French braid, weaving a black ribbon into it and pulling wisps of hair out to curl around my face and the back of my neck. 

I glanced at the door and seen the shadow of his feet in the hallway and made my way over to let him in. He looked like he'd just left a magazine photo shoot. His hair was all spiked up with jell and his bomber jacket was hanging open. His snug, black silk shirt left nothing to the imagination and I could see the outline of every muscle on that gorgeous chest. Some sparse chest hair was peeking out over the top where he'd left it unbuttoned. I'd had the insane urge to run my fingers through it. 

Even in heels, he towered over me in his thick heeled black, leather boots. They must have given him another inch of height. And the diamond stud in his ear was the topper. I'd never even noticed that his ear was pierced! How could I have missed that? 

I couldn't see it now that we were in the car, but I was fascinated by the fact that Mulder had his ear pierced at some point during his misspent youth, probably at Oxford. I glanced at his hands, watching his knuckles turn white as he gripped the steering wheel and noticed he was wearing a gold ring as well as the necklace. It was so NOT Mulder, and yet ... Damn, he looked good enough to eat. 

I sighed and looked out the window at the passing landscape. I had to try and think about something else other than how good he looked. How was I going to survive an entire evening and keep my hands off him? Those black jeans hugged his thighs like a second skin and framed that spectacular ass in soft denim. 

I'd nearly jumped out of my skin when he'd touched my back so gently. It was barely a touch, but my whole body had washed with a warm sensation and heat had pooled between my legs. 

Damn, I just felt another rush of wetness as I relived the feeling of his warm, large hand on the small of my back. It nearly spanned my waist it was so large. To have those hands on my body ... NO! Stop this, I thought. That way lay madness. 

Maybe I should have worn underwear after all. This was going to be a long night. I hoped he couldn't smell me. I was aroused already and we hadn't even made it to the club. 

I gawked at all the neon as we pulled up to the club. Mulder circled the lot twice until he found a place fairly close. 

We slipped out and went to the door. A hulking brute of a guy wearing cut off shorts, a weight belt and work boots was guarding the door. He wore no shirt and he looked like King Kong, his bald head glinting in the ray of the spot light above the door. He stuck out his hand to Mulder. 

"You must be Fox, Jamella told me to look for you. Said you were a hunk and you'd have the little woman with you. I'm Ramone. Go right on in." 

Mulder pulled out his wallet to pay the cover charge, but Ramone waved at him. 

"Jamella paid your way. You're all set." 

Mulder looked surprised, but put his hand on my back again and led me through the door. We were plunged into near darkness in the entryway. Mulder handed his coat to another bouncer at the door, who hung it on a hanger from the poles that adorned both sides of the entryway. As we entered the main lounge, the lighting was dim but you could see. Small round tables circled a small dance floor which was situated in front of a presidium stage. We found a table right in front of the stage but off to one side and sat down. "The little woman?" I asked. 

He shrugged, grinning. "J has a peculiar sense of humor. She's probably in match maker mode." 

A waiter was at the table very quickly and taking our drink order. He was dressed in tux pants and a cummerbund ... nothing else but a bow tie around his neck. His torso was greased and he looked like something out of GQ. I eyed him appreciatively and he smiled, preening a little bit and winking at me as he walked away. I laughed and turned to find Mulder scowling. 

I laughed even harder. "I don't think I'm his type, Mulder. I wouldn't worry about it." 

He schooled his features to his classic deadpan look and didn't say anything. "Mulder?" 

"What? I didn't say anything," he replied. 

I grinned. "You didn't have to and wipe that deadpan look off your face." 

He visibly relaxed and mumbled, "Sorry." 

"Forget it." I couldn't resist teasing him though just to see what would happen. I sighed loudly, looking back towards the bar where our hunky cocktail waiter was leaning over the bar retrieving drinks and said, "Too bad all the good ones are married or gay," I said in a wistful tone. 

I looked at Mulder, expecting him to smile or laugh and join in my tease. Instead I saw a solemn look on his face that almost looked ... disappointed? He looked away but not before I saw the flash of hurt on his face. 

Damn, I was only teasing. "Mulder, I was only teasing!" I chastised. 

He cleared his throat. "I know, just not a joke guys get into I guess. One to save for your girlfriends." 

"I didn't mean anything by that. I was only teasing!" I paused. "You're one of the good ones, Mulder!" 

"Am I?" he asked, perfectly serious. 

"Yes, you are." 

He looked away. 

I frowned, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. Mulder was my best friend. I didn't have any girlfriends any more. There were a few I still saw a couple times a year for tradition sake, but for all intents and purposes, Mulder was my only friend. He was the only one I saw regularly at any rate and he was without a doubt, my best friend. Sometimes I wished I had a girlfriend. How many nights had I wished that I had someone to share my feelings with. I had at times longed for a girlfriend to confide in. Someone I could trust with my feelings for Mulder and be sure they wouldn't repeat them. 

Oh, I could talk to my mother if I needed to. But if I admitted I was in love with Mulder, she would push me to advance the relationship. She wanted to see me married. 

Wait a minute! ... In love with Mulder. I sucked in a noisy breath and Mulder's face was in mine instantly. "Are you all right, Scully?" 

"Yeah, I just thought of something ... I forgot to do," I lied. 

He looked at me strangely. "Do we need to leave?" 

"No! No, it's all right." 

"I'm sorry, Scully, I didn't mean to go all silent on you. I'm being an ass. I don't know what's the matter with me. Maybe I'm a little jumpy being in here, more than I thought I would be." 

"It's all right." 

"No, it's not. I'm sorry. I'm just ... glad you're with me." 

I knew that wasn't what he had been going to say. "What were you going to say?" 

"It's silly, I guess. But I wish someone would look at me like that someday." 

"Like what?" 

"Like you just looked at that guy over there. Like he was an ice cream sundae." 

I smiled at him, amazed at his insecurity and how oblivious he could be. 

"What?" he asked, when I continued to stare at him incredulously. 

He continued. "I mean, its like I only seem to attract nut cases and gay men. Why do think that is?" he asked seriously. 

I laughed then. "Oh Mulder, you're priceless. Women ogle you all the time. Don't you notice?" 

He looked surprised. "No way!" 

I smiled and he returned my smiled. "They do, Mulder. And I'm not immune. You're a very handsome man. So which am I, a nut case or a gay man?" I teased. 

He swallowed and licked his lips. "You think I'm handsome?" he asked tentatively. 

I smiled wider. "Of course I do. Every woman with eyes in her head thinks your sexy." I felt the heat rise up my neck as soon as I realized what I'd just said. I'd said sexy rather than handsome. 

He sucked in his breath. "Sexy? Do you think I'm sexy, Scully?" 

I blushed profusely now, looking at my hands wrapped around my drink. I spoke softly, but loud enough to be heard over the buzz of conversation taking place throught the bar. "Yes, Mulder. I think you're handsome ... and sexy." 

His hand came out to capture my chin gently and turn my face toward his. He leaned in slowly, placing his lips near my ear and said, "That just made my night because I think you're sexy too." 

I shivered, "Mulder ..." I didn't even know what I was going to say. 

His hot breath cascaded down my neck when he said, "And you are extra special sexy in this dress." 

"Thank you," I said softly, pulling away from him. 

He kept looking at me. "Have you ever looked at me like you looked at that guy over there?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious. 

Why was he asking? This was getting uncomfortable. I thought of an out. 

"No, I ..." 

"No?" he cut me off, sounding very sad. "Oh well," he muttered, sounding very flippant. 

Before I could think about it and stop myself, I teased him. "I've never seen you with a greased torso wearing nothing but a bow tie," I teased. 

He grinned widely as I blushed and then he asked, "Would you like to?" 

I swallowed a burst of nervous laughter and blurted out. "I don't know if I could take it." 

He laughed then and said, "Thanks for humoring me, Scully. You're good for my ego." 

I realized in that moment that it had all been innuendo and he thought I had been kidding, just throwing his innuendo back at him. For some reason, unlike in the past, I didn't want to fall back on innuendo to escape being caught with my feelings on my sleeve. I mumbled, "I wasn't kidding, Mulder." 

His head whipped around to face me, looking shocked. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn't have a chance to say anything because I cut him off. Now I was embarrassed and wanting to retreat into my shell. Why the hell had I said that? I should have just let it go. He'd given me an out and I should have taken it. 

"Scully ..." he began. 

"Where's Jamella?" I asked, changing the subject. 

"She's probably performing tonight." 

"Really?!" I asked, excited at the prospect of seeing a show. I hadn't expected it despite what he had said the place was like. 

"Scully ..." he tried again and just then, the lights dimmed a little more, a spot light appearing on the stage. Another man, looking like he stepped out of the Chippendale Review graced the stage and grabbed the lone microphone standing there. I feigned intense interest in what was going on up on the stage. 

He retreated, sitting back in his chair and sighing loudly, obviously disappointed that I didn't want to continue this discussion. We both fell silent. I, at least, was grateful for the distraction. We'd been wandering into very dangerous territory. It was what I wanted and yet, I could feel panic setting in at the prospect of actually doing anything about my feelings for him. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you tonight. She usually performs on Saturday and will still grace the stage tomorrow night. But she's coming out to do one special song tonight." 

The crowd cheered and clapped, obviously knowing who the man was talking about. He smiled. "She tells me she has a friend here tonight and asked that we all make him feel welcome." 

The crowd erupted into woofs and fist waving with a few boos mixed in for good measure. The MC laughed and the spot light spun out into the audience and landed directly on Mulder. He put his hand over his forehead to shield his eyes and muttered, "She's dead. She is so fucking dead." 

I laughed as the MC said, "And just in case you're wondering, his name is FOX!" 

The crowd went wild with cat calls and whistles and offers of phone numbers. Mulder turned a shade of red I had never seen before and I held my stomach, holding in my laughter. It was just too rich. 

He waved his hand testily at the MC and with a flick of his hand, the spot light returned to him. He chuckled and said, "That's enough, ladies! We don't want to scare one that good looking away now, do we?" he quipped. 

A few more whistles and murmurs and the crowd finally died down. When there was silence again, the announcer said, "With great pleasure, I introduce tonight .. the One, the Only ... Femme fatale, Jamella LaCreme! 

Everyone erupted into clapping as the curtain swung open and Jamella appeared sitting on a stool, holding a microphone. Another gent sat primly at a baby grand piano. 

I peered closely at this friend of Mulder's and was almost jealous. Expecting someone tall and lanky like Mulder, I was surprised to see a petite woman sitting on the stool. She boasted a long mane of wild, kinky black hair that fell to her waist. It was probably a wig but it looked fabulous. She had dark olive skin and was sheathed in a lavender dress festooned with sequins that glittered in the stage lights as she moved. Delicate hands with lavender finger nails held the microphone as silence descended. One butt cheek perched on the stool. Her other leg stretched out in front of her showing her leg to mid thigh through the large slit in the side of her dress. She wore purple stockings and lavender sandals. The gown was sleeveless. 

She tipped her head towards the piano player and he began to play a slow number I'd never heard before ... 

Jamella raised her eyes looking at Mulder and began to sing: 
    
    
         "Bluuuuueeeeooooooouououou, oh so lonesome for you,
         Why can't you be bluuee, over me?
    
         Bluuuuuueeeeooooooouououou, oh so lonesome for you,
         Tears fill my eyes till I can't see.
    
         Three O'clock in the morrrnnninnnn'
         Here am Iiiiiiii...
         Sitting here so lonely, 
         So lonesome I could die.
    
         "Bluuuuueeeeooooooouououou, oh so lonesome for you,
         Why can't you be bluuee, over me?
    
         Now that it's oooovvveeerrr
         I realize ...
         Those sweet words you whispered ...
         Were nothing but lies!
    
         "Bluuuuueeeeooooooouououou, oh so lonesome for you,
         Why can't you be bluuee, over me?" 
    

Her voice soared up and down through the long drawn out notes and I was amazed at how wonderful her voice was. It wasn't androgynous in the least when she sang. She was all woman. If I met her on the street, I would never have known she was a man. 

She hung her head at the end of the tune and stood, bowing gracefully as the place erupted in applause once again. Cat calls and whistles were now for her as the curtain dropped and she was hidden from sight. I looked over at Mulder and he was smiling. "She's a trip, isn't she?" 

I grinned. "She can sing, too. I'm jealous already." 

He laughed, knowing I couldn't carry at tune in a bushel basket. Our waiter reappeared with another wine spritzer for me and another Heineken for Mulder. He tipped the waiter who shook his rear end slightly and intentionally bumped Mulder's shoulder on his way away from the table. He shook his head, obviously embarrassed, but determined not to make a scene. 

I grinned again and then saw Jamella appear behind Mulder. Her hands slipped over his eyes and she leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Boo!" 

He chuckled and stood up, spinning around. He took her in his arms and gave her hug. It was quick but sincere. She beamed up at him and then turned to me. "Oh, my, my, my, my, my," she said. "She is a dish, isn't she, Fox?" 

It was my turn to laugh and blush and Mulder surprised me when he said, "Yes, she's gorgeous, but be careful. She can kick your ass quicker than I can." 

Jamella threw back her head and laughed, reaching for my hand. "Come, darling, we'll go in the back and talk while I change." 

I raised my eyebrow at Mulder but he merely shrugged. I stood and we were led into the back of the lounge, down a long, dark hallway. On our walk, I realized she was only a few inches taller than me. She wasn't wearing heels, but her lavender sandals had a thick one inch heel. Once in the well lit dressing room, overflowing with wigs, make up, and costumes, we dug a place for ourselves in the wicker chairs spread about the room, pulled them together near her bench and talked while she pulled her hair up and put cold cream all over her face, washing her makeup off. 

She looked at me. "That dress is simply divine, darling. Where ever did you find it?" she asked. 

"A little dress shop called 'Cock and Tails'." 

She laughed heartily again. "You'll give me the address, no?" 

"Of course." 

She continued to work on her hair and face as she got down to business. "All right, hit me with the questions, Foxy." 

"Tell me what you know about the girls that disappeared. Did they have anything in common?" 

"Besides that they all worked for Dial-A-Dream?" 

"Besides that." 

"They were all blondes." 

"Really?" 

"Yes, some natural, only one I think, the other four were died various shades of atrocious blonde." 

I stifled a giggle at her catty comment. 

"What else?" Mulder asked. 

"They were amazons." 

"Amazons?" I questioned. 

"Yes, they were all between 5' 8" and 6' tall." 

Mulder pursed his lips. "So that would mean that their assailant would have had to be fairly strong to take them down?" 

"I don't know. He couldn't have been like me, that's for sure. But someone your size could do it." 

"Are we assuming it's a HE?" I asked. 

"What are you thinking, Scully?" I saw Jamella raise an eyebrow, seemingly surprised that he would ask my thoughts or opinions. 

"I don't know. Women can get awfully jealous of other women. And it sounds like these girls were competitive." 

He nodded. "We can't rule that out. We'll have to interview everyone who works there." He turned back to Jamella. What else?" 

"You could look up their nostrils," she replied and turned back to the mirror. I did laugh at that. 

"Stuck up, huh?" I clarified. 

She nodded. "You have no idea, doll. Atrocious." 

Mulder and I grinned at each other. "They were all like that?" 

Jamella nodded. "You'd think they worked for Heidi the Hollywood Madam instead of Dial-A-Dream. They all thought they were the cat's meow." 

"Meow!" Mulder teased. 

Jamella chuckled good-naturedly. 

Mulder chuckled. "Why do you still work there, J?" he asked, his tone serious again. 

She looked at him. "Money ... isn't it always about money? I'm not going to get rich singing in a lounge." 

"It's not a safe profession anymore it seems," he said. 

She tilted her head, pulling her hair extension off and released some hair pins. It hadn't been a wig after all. I was surprised to see that her real hair was as black as her wig and hung straight and thick down her back, ending near the bottom of her shoulder blades. She looked almost like one of the authentic paintings of a young American Indian squaw. He/she was a beautiful person, even without the hair extension and makeup. 

The features of the face were small and delicate, the cheekbones high and the mouth full and generous. Finally she said, "Are you worried about me, Fox? I'm flattered." 

Mulder smiled. "I'm always worried about you, J." 

"That's sweet." 

"It's more than general concern for your well being now, though." 

"I don't think I'm in any danger. First of all, I'm a towering 5' 5" without heels, and I'm about as far from blonde as you can get." 

"Still, nothing saying this guy won't change his MO or his signature." 

"I'm not stuck up, either," she said, still trying to make light of it. 

"I'm really worried, J. I wish you would take a leave for a while." 

She stood and turned her back to Mulder. "Get the zipper, would you darling?" 

Mulder flashed me a smirk and reached up to slide her zipper down quickly and efficiently. I shivered internally, wondering what it would feel like to have Mulder remove my clothes. 

She was totally unselfconscious as she let the dress drop and wiggled her hips to extricate herself. 

She was wearing a slip underneath and a bra with falsies. She turned around as though on a catwalk and strutted around a little while we both laughed. She peeled off her nylons and shoes while I averted my eyes. Then she reached into a trunk and yanked some jeans on before pulling the slip and bra off. 

She said nothing still as she pulled a plain white tee shirt on over her head and pulled her long, thick hair back into a ponytail. At that moment, except for the lack of breasts, you could not tell if Jamella was a he or a she. It was uncanny. In either case, she was beautiful in an exotic sort of way. 

She cleared her throat. "Look, Fox. I can't afford to not work." 

"I could lend you some money to tide you over, just until this investigation is solved." 

"No way, baby. I love you dearly, but I'm not going to owe you money." 

"Then consider it a gift. Come on, what are your monthly expenses?" 

She blinked rapidly as her eyes became wet. "I don't want your money ..." 

"But?" he prompted. 

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, worrying it with her teeth, making her look about 15 years old. Her voice was soft and barely above a whisper when she said, "I'm scared, Fox. I've been around some rough characters in my life. But this ... mystery, not knowing what's out there snatching those girls. It worries me. I know it's stupid. I'm not even ... a girl! He'd have a big surprise if he felt up my skirts." 

"Big, huh?" I asked, trying to break the tension. 

She threw her head back and laughed again. "God, Fox, you've found a treasure. Hang on to this one, would you?" 

"I plan on it," Mulder said, smiling at me and turning back to Jamella. The look he gave me was totally calm and his voice was filled with conviction. I suppressed another shiver. 

Jamella looked at me and said, "We need to talk." 

I smiled. 

Mulder groaned. 

I added, "There's no evidence that these girls were molested or that they are dead. There are no bodies so we are really grasping at straws. But Mulder's right, better safe than sorry." 

She nodded. "Thanks but it's too much to ask." 

* * *

* * *

**PART 3 (R )**  
**SALTY DOG**  
**DRESSING ROOM**

Mulder made a sound of irritation. "J, please. You know my family had money and now it's all mine. The dollars aren't the issue. Let's not stand on ceremony here. Give me some peace of mind. Take the damn money." 

"My family had money too," she said. I found that statement irrelevant. 

Mulder sighed. "And we both know you were written out. What's that got to do with anything?" 

Written out of a Will? I wondered. 

Jamella gave him a hurt look. 

Mulder said, "Come on, J. You know I don't say that to be cruel. Christ, are you going to risk your life to hold on to a little pride?" 

She sniffed. "My dignity is all I have left. You know that." 

Mulder was really getting aggravated now. "This has nothing to do with your dignity or making it on your own, J! This is about protecting your life! You know nobody respects you more than I do! For Christ's sake! Damn it!" he ended in frustration. 

There was obviously some history here going way back. It had something to do with family money and I decided the best thing I could do for now was stay silent. I would ask Mulder about it later. 

Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Then he stood up abruptly and said, "I have to use the bathroom." He spun on his heel and left, closing the door a little too hard. A shelf near the door vibrated but then settled down. 

Jamella's face crumpled as she tried not to cry. She sunk into a chair and leaned her elbows on her knees. She muttered, "I'll never really understand him. Why is he pushing this? I don't fit this profile." 

I was silent for a long moment and then said quietly, "You know, Mulder is the most loyal person I've ever met." 

She lifted her head to look at me and smiled gently. "I know," was all she said. 

"And he feels like he's let everybody he ever loved down." 

She scrunched her brow. "What do you mean?" 

"It started with his sister." 

"Yeah, I know that story. I've told him it wasn't his fault. I also know he still blames himself." 

"His father was killed while he was in the next room. So he feels responsible for that too, like he should have been able to prevent it because he was right there. In his mind, he failed him." 

"Rubbish," she said. "The man was a snake." 

I nodded. "True, but this is about what he thinks. Then his mother committed suicide." 

"Selfish bitch," she muttered. Then, "Sorry, I shouldn't say that." 

"I happen to agree," I replied, "but for a slightly different reason. She did have a rare disease that was going to kill her." 

She raised her eyebrows in question. 

"She called and asked to see him. We were out of state on a case." 

She gasped softly, "Oh no, ..." 

I nodded. "She didn't wait for him to get back. She left this cryptic message on his answering machine. He was sure she was trying to tell him something." 

"God, how could anyone be so self-centered?" she asked. I assumed it was a rhetorical question, so I didn't respond. She continued. "I didn't know about the message or her not waiting for him to return. So I suppose he blames himself or not being there for her too?" 

"Yeah." 

"Shit." 

"Do you see where I'm going with this?" 

She just looked at me, her gaze unwavering, waiting for more explanation. 

"He needs to feel like he's done something to help to protect you. If something happened to you and he hadn't even tried to help ..." I trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished. 

"Then he would feel responsible for me too?" 

"Exactly." 

"Shit." 

"He blames himself for every bad thing that's ever happened to me. I can't seem to make him understand that I've chosen to be here and stay by his side. Evil people have hurt both of us and we've chosen to keep fighting, to stay in the game. So, all penalties and consequences are the result of our own choices. None of it is his fault. We knew the risks and kept going anyway." 

"He thinks he's let you down?" she clarified. 

"Big time," I replied. 

"Are you one of the people he loves ... that he thinks he's let down?" 

"I ... don't know. We care about each other a lot. We've been through a lot together. But this is about YOU, not me. He NEEDS to help you. He'll be terribly distracted on this case unless he thinks you're safe." 

"So you're saying that I'd be doing him a favor if I take his money?" she asked with a gentle tease. 

I smiled. "That's exactly what I'm saying. He'll feel better and the money doesn't mean anything to him anyway. If he thinks your safe, he can concentrate on the case." 

She sighed again, blinking slowly. "Maybe you're right." 

"I know I'm right," I said confidently. 

"I just hate to be indebted to anyone." 

"I understand, but Mulder is right. Nothing is worth risking your life for if you don't have to. And you don't have to. He's offering a way for you to be safer by not having to work there. I want him to feel you're safe. You're an important friend to him. He doesn't have many. Friends that is. I don't want him to lose anymore." 

"Sounds like you're an important friend too." 

"I like to think so. He's my best friend." 

She smiled, a gentle look stealing over her face. "God, I can see why he loves you so much." 

My eyes widened and I couldn't suppress the tiny gasp of surprise that escaped me. "He ... we're just friends ... and partners ... and ..." 

"And he loves you," she said, cutting me off. 

I stared at her, unable to think of a response. 

She smiled wide and asked, "Why do you look so surprised?" 

"I'm not sure you're right about that. He's the king of innuendo. We're close friends, but he goes for brunettes with long legs and big boobs." 

"All those fancy bitches have ever done is break his heart and mind fuck him. He's well rid of them. He needs a real woman. And all he's talked about for the last four years is you. True, I haven't seen him now in ten months, but I doubt any of that has changed." 

"We are together a lot. It makes sense that he would talk about me." I wondered what Mulder had told her. 

"I've known Fox since he was 19years old. I've known every woman he's ever gotten serious with. He's never talked about any of them the way he does about you." 

"What way?" 

"With ... respect and reverence, like you're this pure unadulterated spirit that can do no wrong." 

I snorted and she smiled. "I'm a long ways from pure." 

"But he thinks of you that way. I'm telling you he's in love with you, even if he won't admit to you. He won't risk losing you as a partner and friend. You mean too much to him. You'll have to be the one to give him a sign, a green light." 

"Sign of what?" I asked, knowing what she meant. 

"A sign that you feel the same way and he won't be rejected." 

"But I ..." 

She tilted her head and raised one eyebrow. She was almost better at that than I was. 

I swallowed. 

"You're not going to tell me you don't love him," she said. It was a statement. And she was challenging me to contradict her. 

"Of course I love him, he's my best friend." 

"That's not what I mean and you know it. He's one of my best friends too and I love him dearly. But I'm talking about being _in love_. 

* * *

I returned from an extended visit to the bathroom which ended up including the purchase of another beer at the bar. The waiter had asked for my phone number and I'd respectfully declined. I needed to calm down and get a grip on my frustration over J's stubbornness and pride. He'd always been fiercely independent, especially since his family had disowned him. It was like he was on a mission to prove that he didn't need them. I understood where he was coming from and understood his need to do that. I didn't want to fight with J, but I was really worried about him. Yes, I still thought of him as HIM in my mind. I called him Jamie in my head too, although I'd never tell him that. He'd always be Jamie to me. 

The door to the dressing room was slightly ajar as I approached and I heard Jamie say, "You're not going to tell me you don't love him." 

"Of course I love him, he's my best friend," Scully replied. 

"That's not what I mean and you know it. He's one of my best friends too and I love him dearly. But I'm talking about being _in love_." 

I realized I was holding my breath waiting to hear what Scully would say. She'd never really come right out and told me how she felt. I wondered. I knew she cared for me, but how much was a mystery. Finding me physically attractive and loving me were two totally different things. 

Scully's voice actually trembled slightly as she said, "I don't know how!" 

She hadn't denied it! Know how to do what? What were they talking about? 

Then she laughed a self deprecating cackle. I stepped over and pressed my back to the wall. I knew I shouldn't be listening. But I wasn't interrupting this conversation for anything. Jamie could be a pain in the ass but he really meant well. This time I wondered if his meddling would do any good. 

No one would ever be as good a friend as Scully. We'd been through too much together. But Jamie and I had been through some rough times together too, back before I joined the FBI. We supported each other through all those teen and early twenties anxieties in college and heading into the real world, first loves and all that. When Phoebe screwed me over, if it wasn't for Jamie, I probably would have killed myself. 

Jamie was speaking again. "It wouldn't take much." 

"It's so weird. We've been partners and friends for so long. I don't even know exactly when my feelings changed. But how do you suddenly tell your best firend that you want more?" 

I released my breath, feeling my heartbeat accelerate. Her feelings changed? She wanted more? 

"How about, 'I love you and I want more'," Jamie supplied helpfully, his voice filled with simple irony. I could almost hear the "Uh, duh," on the end of his sentence. 

Scully chuckled again. "Not that simple. Our relationship is so complicated." 

Jamie made a tsking sound with his tongue. "He's given me that 'complicated' bullshit before too. It's complicated because you make it that way. Love is really very simple. It either IS or it isn't. The hard part is admitting it to yourself. IF you've done that, the hard part is over." 

"Why am I talking to you about this?" Scully asked. "I don't even know you!" 

"I brought it up. He didn't tell you I'm a hopeless romantic?" 

"Match maker was the term he used, and he did say you were easy to talk to." 

Jamie laughed quietly. "Yeah, I'm a match maker too, but only when I really believe it's right and true love is there. You are in love with him, aren't you?" 

"Yes," she said quietly. 

My heart skipped a beat then began to pound. Scully was in love with me! Holy shit! 

"Then go for it, don't let him get away. You both deserve happiness. I KNOW he does and you must be special for him to love you. He doesn't give away his heart very easily, you know?" 

"How?!" Scully asked. "How do I 'go for it'?" 

"I don't know. Try grabbing his ass!" Jamie joked, backing out of his serious mode. 

"What?!" Scully exclaimed, snorting around her laughter. 

Jamie quipped. "Didn't work for me but I'm willing to bet you'd have better luck." 

They were both still laughing when I entered the room, deciding I had heard enough. I didn't know how I was going to look Scully in the face. As good as it was to see Jamie, I now wanted to be alone with Scully. 

The door had no spring on it and as I pushed it open, intent on breaking up this little conversation before Jamie did damage, it flew back and hit the wall, dislodging a shelf on the wall. A cascade of wig models and wigs fell to the floor with a giant clatter. 

Jamie stood up, laughing and said, "Quit busting up the joint, would you? Jesus, you're like a bull in a china shop!" 

I said, "So I guess my aspirations to becoming a delicate drag queen like you are down the drain, huh?" 

Jamie and Scully both laughed with me as we bent to retrieve the shelf. Scully's laughter was forced and sounded a bit nervous and anxious. I put the shelf back, setting it in the brackets. Returning the wigs and models to their rightful places took a couple of minutes. I glanced at Scully and she caught my eyes, but looked quickly away. I hoped things weren't going to get awkward now. 

My heart was finally starting to slow down. I just kept thinking. Oh my God, she said she was in love with me! 

As I turned to ask her if she wanted to leave I saw a magazine on the floor. I stooped down to pick it up, figuring it had been a victim of the falling shelf. Emblazoned across the front in big red letters was the title, "Do Me With It-Big Boy!" 

I barked out a laugh and held the magazine up so Jamie and Scully could see it. "Yours, J?" I asked, sputtering around my laughter. 

He actually blushed and look at the floor. "Stupid title," he muttered. 

That only made Scully and I laugh harder. There were pictures of various toys on the front and I tossed it at him, still chuckling. He caught it and tossed it into the trunk that had held his clothes. He was shaking his head at me. "I'll get you for that," he said. 

I smiled. "No, now we're even. I owe you for that little spotlight crap you pulled out there. This isn't nearly so humiliating, so you're getting off easy. At least it's just me and Scully here." 

He sighed dramatically. "It never ends with you, does it?" he asked, sounding very put upon. 

We both chuckled. I always laughed when we got together. I'd forgotten how much fun he could be as Jamie or Jamella. He really had a great sense of humor. 

Scully said, "Let's get Jamella home and give her the check. Then we need to find a hotel and call it a night. I'm exhausted." 

I looked at J. "You'll take the money?" I asked. I was sure he would fight me tooth and nail. I wondered what Scully had said to him. 

He merely nodded shyly and smiled a close mouthed smile. "Against my better judgment, yes. I'm sick of hearing you whine," he complained, making a joke out of it. 

I let it go, clapping him on back. "Let's get out of here. On to Chez Leveau." 

"Leveau?" Scully asked. "Not LeCreme?" 

Jamie waved for us to follow him as he shook his head in amusement. "And you're not staying in a hotel. You're staying with me. It's the least I can do if I'm going to be a kept woman." 

We were all laughing as we exited the bar and headed for the car. 

* * *

**JAMIE LEVEAU'S APARTMENT**  
**RICHMOND, VA**

I sat in the back seat so that Mulder and _Jamie_ could talk. I listened with amusement to them reminiscing about stealing a weather vane off the roof of one of the buildings at Oxford. Then they'd been frantic trying to find a place to stash it until they could get it off campus. In the throes of their drunken prank, they hadn't thought about what they were going to do with it once they had it. 

I found myself laughing with them, loving the sound of Mulder's laughter. So young Mulder had been a bit of thief, had he? Drunken college pranks often yielded some humorous memories. He would probably be shocked by a few of mine. 

He sounded so relaxed and carefree. I made a mental note to remind him to keep in touch with this old friend. It was good for him to cut loose now and then. I loved the Gunmen but their idea of cutting loose was hacking into Justice Department computers while swilling tequila. 

Jamie lived in a large townhouse in Richmond. I was impressed, I was expecting a dinky little pad. He had a spare bedroom for guests, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a tastefully decorated living room with sliding glass door that led out onto a balcony on the second floor. A garage was underneath. We parked the car and climbed the stairs to the main floor and got the dime tour. 

Of course, the problem now arose of where to sleep. He had a guest room but it had one bed, a double. Mulder saw my look and quickly offered to sleep on the couch, saying he was used to that anyway and J's couch looked a lot more comfortable than his as well. 

I'd argued that I was shorter and would fit better on the couch and it was just for one night anyway. J stood shaking his head as we argued. He started to laugh and we both stopped abruptly and looked at him. Mulder growled, "What's so damn funny?" 

"You two sound like a couple of kids pissed off about not getting your own way. Fox, you can sleep with me if you want." 

Mulder raised his eyebrows and made a face at J. She looked at him and laughed, saying, "I promise to behave myself if you do. But I think you're both being stupid. Just sleep together in there. You're both adults for Christ's sake. I would think you could handle one night in the same bed." 

Shaking his head like we were recalcitrant children, he whooshed by us and bounced down the stairs to the main floor, leaving us standing in the hallway between the two bedrooms looking at each other. Neither one of us knew what to say. I didn't know what I wanted. Sleeping with Mulder and not touching him would be torture. Then again, maybe I could touch him. Did I have the courage? Did I believe what J had told me? That he was in love with me? 

If he was and I was, then ... but should I make my move here, in someone else's house? That didn't really seem right. Then again, I'm sure J would be doing cartwheels over having successfully pushed us over the edge. I looked at Mulder, but couldn't read the expression on his face. He tentatively reached out and picked up my hand where it dangled at my side. 

I looked at him curiously as he held it gently with both of his, his thumbs gently caressing the top of my hand. I felt my blood quicken just from this simple touch. Jesus, I was so aware of him now after my talk with J. 

He cleared his throat. "Look, Scully, obviously the idea of sleeping in there with me makes you uncomfortable. So I'll just take the couch, like I said." 

I said, "You could sleep in there with him." 

He grinned, trying to make a joke. "I don't trust J THAT much," he quipped. 

We both chuckled quietly. I looked up to find him staring at my face. His eyelids were heavy and his lips were parted. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and I felt a shiver of warmth cascade down my torso and lodge in crotch. I sucked in a noisy breath and he tilted his head to the side, regarding me with curiosity. Then he bent quickly and brushed his lips over mine, just barely. 

I gasped at the unexpected feel of his lips on mine, however fleeting. He quickly stepped away from me, dropping his hand. "Go to bed, Scully. I'm going to go down and talk with J some more." 

I nodded, suddenly mute. Then he was gone. I stared down the darkened staircase, wondering at my sudden sense of loss. I shook myself and walked into the guestroom. Mulder had hauled my overnight bag in when we came up. It was sitting at the foot of the bed. I strode to the nightstand and turned on the lamp which cast a subtle glow in the room from the blue lampshade. I crossed back and closed the door. 

I didn't want to go to bed. I did but ... I didn't want to go to bed alone. I remembered him unzipping J's dress and again wondered what it would feel like to have him remove this dress. I sat on the bed and sighed. I'd missed my chance. I could have invited him to sleep in here and now I'd missed my chance. To invite him now, I would feel like an ass, going back on my decision. Damn it! Why couldn't I make myself take this step. Maybe I could when we got home. 

I reached up to remove my French braid before I undressed. I fingered the balck ribbon, wondering if there was a graceful way to invite him back up here. God, did I really want that? Yes, I did. But I was a coward. Despite Jamie's perception, I didn't know if I could make the first move. It would be nice if Mulder just took the decision out of my hands. I knew if he ever touched me for real, I wouldn't be able to muster any resistance. 

* * *

I didn't want to be here. I had enjoyed J's company and it had been fun to reminisce about some old times at Oxford. There were a few good ones, Phoebe notwithstanding. But now this whole sleeping arrangement thing had me in a knot. I knew what I had heard earlier. Scully had admitted she was in love with me. That blew me away. 

But she didn't know that I knew. And just because J had worked his magic and gotten her to open up didn't mean she was ready to spill the beans to me. And if she was, that didn't mean she was ready to do a flying leap into the sack. If she confessed to me at all, I envisioned long, drawn out conversations about all the things that could go wrong. She would have contingency plans inside contingency plans inside agreements inside agreements. That part I wasn't looking forward to. That was a part of Scully that J didn't understand. 

He started in as soon as we hit the kitchen. He made some nasty instant coffee and handed me a cup festooned with pictures of Bugs Bunny, Porky Pig and Daffy Duck. A huge Warner Brothers logo was on the other side. The characters were all beaming out from under the Looney Toones logo. I laughed at the cup. I think he'd had this one in college. Could it be the same one? 

He grinned at me, telling me with a look that it was. I shook my head and took a sip. He'd always been a big Bugs Bunny fan. I'd since teased him that he liked Bugs Bunny because he dressed in drag to dupe Elmer Fudd. He said that his favorite episode was the Mad Scientist episode with Bugs giving the monster a permanent and spouting, 'Because an interesting monster should have an Interesting hair do!' "I can't believe you still have this," I murmured, shaking my head. 

He ignored my comment and asked, "How long were you eavesdropping outside the dressing room?" I choked and almost burned my throat on the swallow of coffee I'd just taken. He patted me on the back and then took a seat next to me at the kitchen table. 

I looked up at him sheepishly. "I ... didn't think that would be a good time to interrupt." 

"No, it wouldn't have been." 

I raised an eyebrow, asking him how he knew. He could still read my face better than anyone I knew, except for Scully, that is. 

He answered my unspoken question, "I saw your shadow outside the door. You were backlit by that shitty lighting they have in that hallway." 

I chuckled. He smiled. "So answer the question." 

"I came up when she was saying she didn't know how. How to do what, I didn't know." 

"Ahh," he said. "So you heard the part where she admitted she was in love with you." 

"Yes," I said simply. 

"So what are you going to do about it?" 

Right to the point, that was J. "Nothing, yet." 

He made a sour face. "Why not?" 

"It's complicated." 

"If I hear that one more time I think I'll scream," he replied. 

"Well, the truth hurts sometimes." 

"What's holding you back?" 

"Scully and I have been through a lot together J. You know that. I've told you some of it, but not all of it. She lost a daughter and now she can't have children because of what those bastards did to her." 

"I didn't know that." 

"Well, I'm not the only one in this partnership with baggage." 

"I should buy you a tee-shirt that says, 'I Have Issues', he deadpanned. 

I laughed at that, unable to stay mad at him for his nosiness for too long. He meant well and I knew that. But I wasn't used to opening up to people about Scully. "Just because she admitted it, doesn't mean that she's ready to plunge in with both feet and her eyes closed. We have over six years of history here, J. Yes, we've been best friends for a long time and we've supported each other through some shit more horrible than you can even imagine." 

"But?" he prompted. 

"But we've hurt each other too." 

"Now we're getting at it." 

I stared at my coffee and took another sip. He was waiting patiently for me to continue and I knew he wasn't going to let it be until he knew more about what was going on. And I needed to talk to someone. I had no one but Scully and I couldn't talk to her about her. The Gunmen were not guys that I wanted having the personal details of my relationship with Scully. They all had mouths much to big for their own good. 

"If it wasn't for me, she could have a normal life. She could have a husband and a nine to five job and kids, a house, the white picket fence and the whole nine yards. Instead, she hitched her wagon to me and it's been nothing but misery ever since. I've ditched her in the name of protecting her. I've shut her out when I didn't want her to see my dark side. She's been abducted, shot and contracted cancer." I stopped and swallowed hard, realizing the list was long and ugly of things that Scully had endured because of me. 

J sighed one of his exasperated sighs and I knew a reprimand was coming. "First, nobody who wants a normal life becomes a pathologist and then joins the FBI," he said in a matter of fact voice. "Second, if she wanted a husband, a nine to five job, and 2.5 kids, she would have left you a long time ago and went out and gotten those things. She doesn't strike me as the kind of woman that let's others decide how she's going to live her life." 

"You make it sound so simple, but there's more to it than that." 

"Shut up. I'm not finished." 

I looked at him, feeling a bolt of anger but realizing it was probably because he was giving me a hard time instead of patting me on the head and saying 'poor Fox, everything will be all right'. I remained silent, trying to tamp down my anger. 

"Third, I'm quite sure after six plus years that she's seen your dark side. If that was frightening to her, she would have bolted. She's still here and that should tell you something. That's one tough woman up there." 

"I know," I replied simply. If she wasn't tough, she'd be dead. 

"As far as the rest of it goes, she knew the risks when she agreed to become a field FBI agent. Unfortunately, you two like to play John Wayne. It was inevitable that she would get hurt at some point. No one could have predicted all the rotten shit that's come down on you two. Not her, and certainly not you." 

"I don't know how to explain this to you. There's deep affection there, but there are also wounds that aren't healed." 

"Crossing the line with her would heal a lot of them." 

"How can you say that when you don't even know what those wounds are?" I asked, getting irritated again at his presumption. 

"I can say that because I know you, and I know human nature. I've studied it for years, from all sides. The lady is obviously still by your side for a reason. And I don't think it's the running and the dodging bullets that she's so enamored with. I know married people with less going for them you two. She's getting all your bullshit and none of the benefits." 

I huffed. "I don't know, J. I'm tired of talking about this." 

"I'm not and we're not finished. And when did love suddenly dip back down to deep affection?" 

I stared at him. "She thinks that she loves me ..." 

He cut me off. "No! She KNOWS that she loves you. Why do you refuse to believe that? You heard her. She loves you but doesn't know how to cross the line. You two have so many damn habits with each other that she doesn't know how to change the dynamic of your relationship. I told her she would have to be the one to do it. I still believe that. But I'd hoped that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong. I'd hoped that maybe I could talk some sense into you." 

"Some sense into me? You're being awfully presumptuous, J." 

"So I'm presumptuous. What else is new?" 

"I'll handle this in my own way." 

"And that's been working so well up to this point," he said sarcastically. 

Now my fuse sparked. "You don't know what you're talking about! I have everything to lose if this relationship goes bad! Do you understand that?" 

"And you have everything to gain," he stated calmly. "Nothing is without risk. But I think she's worth the risk." 

"I can't take a chance that ... if things went bad later on ... it's not just my heart and personal life that would be shattered. My career would be over, whatever's left of it. I can't work without her anymore. I found that out when she was gone." 

He looked at me and smiled as though I were a dense child. "I'm not wrong about this, Fox. She loves you. She's not going anywhere. If all the shit you've been through hasn't made her bolt, then there's absolutely nothing you can do to chase her away or ruin your friendship. Except maybe one thing." 

"What's that?" 

"You could take up with someone else in a futile attempt to NOT be with her and break her heart. Or, you could cheat on her after you had her as a lover. But I don't think you're that stupid." 

"I would never betray Scully. Her trust is everything to me." 

"Well, that's the only thing I can possibly think of that would induce her to give you the boot." 

"Do you know how many times I've almost gotten her killed because she felt she had to come chasing after me?" 

"She chased after you because she loves you, not because she felt some obligation or duty. She's not that narrow." 

I stood up and walked to the sink, throwing out the half a cup of nasty instant coffee left in my cup. The mug clattered into the stainless steel sink. I turned to him and said, "I'm tired. I need to sleep. I'm through talking about this." 

I walked into the living room with him on my heels. "For once in your life, Fox, listen to something besides your own warped sense of guilt! God, you are such a fucking martyr!" 

"Don't start with me, J!" 

* * *

* * *

**PART 4 (NC-17)**  
**JAMIE LEVEAU'S APARTMENT**  
**RICHMOND VIRGINIA**

I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to make me angry. He wanted me to break down and let all my shit out. I wasn't prepared to do that. He stared at me for a second and then turned his back and walked to the foot of the staircase. He stopped and turned to me. I almost didn't hear him when he said, "You're such a fucking coward." 

Then he turned and stomped up the stairs. 

I felt anger sweep through me. The little prick was not going to march out on me after insulting me like that. I don't know why it was so important to me to make him understand. But for some reason, it was. 

I gritted my teeth, clamping down on the primal scream I wanted to let loose to relieve my frustration. I couldn't leave this between us like this or we would be pissy and angry with each other in the morning. He was one of the few friends I had left and I didn't have any to spare. I took a deep breath and followed him up the stairs. 

He was just entering his bedroom, evidently having used the bathroom or something to delay his going to bed. I grabbed his arm and spun him around. 

"J, you don't know what you're talking about." 

* * *

I reached up to untie the halter on my dress and just then I heard the them climbing the stairs. I stopped and turned toward the door. They were arguing in hushed whispers. 

"J, you don't know what you're talking about." 

"And I say I do." 

"Well, you don't. Even if what you say is true ... I can't just leap into this." 

"Leap into this? Leap into this? Oh for God sakes, it's been years, Fox! What have you got to lose? I'm telling you can't possibly screw this up!" 

Were they talking about me? I wondered. 

Mulder replied, "What have I got to lose? More than you can ever fucking imagine, J. If I do this wrong, I could lose everything that means anything to me. My work aside ... I can't risk it. I NEED her too much! Can't you understand that? At least this way, she's in my life on a daily basis. I get to keep her near and share parts of my life with her." 

"I love you, Fox. But you're an asshole, do you know that?" 

"Thanks a lot," he said sarcastically. 

"You make everything so fucking complicated. You always did love making mountains out of mole hills. It's not complicated! It's simple. You love her. She loves you. Quit hiding behind your work and your excuses. Because that's all they are, excuses!" 

"They are valid excuses, J. Let's go in here." 

I heard them move into the bedroom across the hall, but I could still hear, although it wasn't as clear. I crept to the door and silently turned the knob, carefully letting it spin back after I cracked the door open. I laid my ear to the crack, feeling guilty and unbearably curious at the same time. 

"No they're not valid. You've run out of excuses. Sometimes I think you enjoy being a martyr, punishing yourself for all your imagined crimes. It keeps you from having to take any chances, doesn't it? Everything's your fault. Well, I got news for you, buddy. You're not that fucking important that the world turns around you and you have this huge impact on everything around you! 

"You're never going to be happy this way. This relationship is more important than your fucking job! The way it is now ... it's never going to be enough for you. Sooo ... what? You're going to spend the rest of your life pining away? Lusting after her and going nuts because you can't touch her? Is that what you want to do for the rest of your life? Spend the next thirty years jerking off on your couch while you think about her. It's crazy!" 

"Keep your voice down!" Mulder growled in a violent whisper. "And when did my sex life become your business anyway!?" 

"This is all bullshit. You're just fucking scared and you won't admit it! You are THIS close to having something real, having what you always wanted and you're too fucking scared to take a hold of it because of what those snotty society bitches did to you. SHE'S not them! She's not remotely like them, Fox. I know I just met her tonight but you've been telling me about her for years. I felt like I knew her before I laid eyes on her. She is not THEM, Fox. Let her in, for God sakes. Because if you don't, you're going to end up old, lonely and miserable and dying with nothing but regrets!" 

Mexican standoff. They were silent for many moments and I wondered what was going on. I had the urge to open the door and break it up. I didn't want Mulder to fight with J. I didn't want him to put a rift between them, especially because of me. 

Finally, J spoke again. "Look, I didn't mean to fight with you. It's your life. You do what you want. But did you ever think that you might be denying her that happiness you're so sure she should be leaving you to find with someone else? Maybe you're the only one that can make her happy, because she's in love with YOU. Not someone else. I'll bet that is why she's still with you. She LOVES you, Fox, and for all the RIGHT reasons. 

"You've been miserable and lonely for so many years. I don't want you to become old and filled with regrets too. Especially not when happiness is so fucking close you can taste it. All you have to do is reach out and take it. Don't end up alone, Fox. It's no way to go out. It is none of my business and I know it. It's just that ... damn, it sucks wanting more for your friends than they want for themselves." 

There was silence again and then J said, "Oh shit, Fox." 

What was happening out there? "Shhh, I'm sorry, buddy. I'm so sorry," J added. 

What the hell? Then I heard it. Mulder was crying. Crying! I could hear his hand patting Mulder's back. He must be hugging him. I felt my heart split wide open and tears sting my eyes. Mulder was trying to be quiet, but there was no mistaking it. He was trying to swallow his sobs. I heard him draw in a noisy breath and sniffle, hiccupping as he tried to get control. "Shit, J. What the fuck? I'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry. I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't mean to do this to you." 

He sniffled again. "You're a pain in the ass and a nosey little fucker. But you're right ... as usual. I am afraid." He paused. "No, I'm fucking terrified." 

There was silence and then J said, "You say you trust her, Fox," he said softly, no longer whispering, but still keeping his voice soothing. 

"I do! I've never trusted anybody the way I trust Scully." 

"You need to trust her with everything, Fox." 

"I do!" 

"No, you don't. You don't trust her with your heart." 

I heard him swallow a sob. "I want to," he whispered. 

"You'll never have better odds than this, buddy. Just think about it." 

"I'm going down now." 

"Yeah, all right. Sleep on it. But really think long and hard, O.K.? I only want you to be happy." 

"I know." 

"Have I ever steered you wrong?" 

"No." 

"I'm not this time either," he said confidently. 

I pressed my lips together in an effort to stay quiet. What should I do? Could I let him go downstairs? I knew he would lay awake all night. God, I was as afraid as he was, but one of us had to push past that fear or we would spend the rest of our lives in limbo. I didn't want to end up alone either. I knew J had just voiced Mulder's biggest fears ... growing old, alone, lonely and filled with regrets. The final abandonment. J had said I would have to be the one to start it. I would have to give Mulder a sign that he wouldn't be rejected. I knew he wouldn't risk it. He'd just been hurt too many times. I had to try. Hearing him cry had broken my heart. 

I took a deep shuddering breath and opened the door when I heard Mulder step into the hall. I heard him gasp. "Scully!" His voice was raw. 

"Hey." 

"Hey," he repeated. "I'm, uh, just headed down. We didn't mean to wake you." 

J was looking at me from behind Mulder, biting his bottom lip. Mulder didn't seem to notice that we were being watched. 

"You didn't wake me. I haven't even gotten undressed yet." 

He looked at the floor and I saw J smile at me and wink. Had he planned on me hearing the whole thing? Sneaky little bastard. He smiled again and softly, mouthing the words, 'Go Get Him' and closed his door, disappearing from sight. 

"Can't sleep?" he asked. 

I drew another shuddering deep breath. "I heard you," I blurted out. 

He looked stricken and physically took a step back away from me. "Oh, Jesus. Scully, it's not ..." 

"It's all right," I said, swallowing hard. My heart was pounding against my ribcage. 

"It is?" he asked, sounding like a confused little boy. 

"Come in here for a minute." He shook his head but I reached out and took his hand. "Let's talk for a minute." 

"I don't think I can right now, Scully. I don't know what to say. I need ..." 

"You need to come in here and listen to me for a few minutes." I tugged on his hand and he followed me into the room as I walked backwards. 

I'd kicked off my shoes and he looked gigantic in the soft blue lamplight, towering over me all dressed in black. It made his face stand out in stark relief above his dark clothes, almost as if his head were floating there. I could see the faint tracks on his face where his tears had scorched his face. I sat down on the bed and patted the mattress next to me. He sat down tentatively. "I'm sorry you heard that," he began. "I've ruined everything, haven't I?" 

"No." 

* * *

"No?" he questioned quietly, looking so scared. I felt an overwhelming desire to wipe that fear out of him. As always happened when he was in true emotional distress, I couldn't help myself. I felt my reserve wash away along with some of my fear. 

I still had butterflies in my stomach but at least I could talk around them, unlike the lump that had been lodged in my throat earlier. "I need to tell you something." 

"What?" 

"I've told other people and I haven't told you. I don't think that's fair." 

"What are you talking about, Scully? You don't have to tell me everything." 

"No, but I need to tell you this because it's about you." 

His eyes riveted on my face and he went very still. After a couple of moments, while I gathered my thoughts, he said, "What about me?" 

The moment of truth, I thought to myself. I summoned my courage. "You've been my best friend for a long time, Mulder." 

"And you're mine." 

I nodded. "And I never want to do anything to ruin that. I treasure your friendship, Mulder." 

"Me too, Scully. God, what I said. It doesn't have to change anything. I swear! J is just being a pain. He always could get under my skin and I..." 

I lifted two fingers and pressed them into his lips. He stopped talking abruptly and pulled in a little gasp. When I was assured of his silence, I let my fingers slip off his lips and watched him shiver. God, he was so unbearably sexy, sitting there with all his attention riveted on me. 

"But I think we're at a crossroads, Mulder." 

"Crossroads? Oh God, Scully. Please don't leave!" he begged, reaching for me and then pulling his arms back, automatically assuming the worst. 

I reached up to cup his face with my right palm. "I'm not going anywhere, Mulder." 

He visibly relaxed under my gaze. "What do you mean then?" 

"I mean that I think we've ignored this thing between us for too long." 

"This thing?" 

"I think that NOT talking about it or admitting it IS starting to affect our friendship. We need to talk about it, Mulder, or it will ruin our friendship eventually ... the very thing we're both trying so hard to preserve." 

He looked down at the bedspread and I dropped my hand. "What do you want me to do? What do you want me to say?" 

I smiled softly. "This isn't about pleasing me or telling me what I want to hear, Mulder. I think maybe it's time to rethink our relationship, get some things out in the open. I want to ask you a few questions and I want you to tell me the truth. Not what you think I want to hear. I need the unadulterated truth." 

He looked up and me, licking his lips and then he nodded tentatively. 

"Do you think that I would ever hurt you intentionally?" 

He shook his head vigorously in the negative. "No!" 

"Do you think that I could go through everything I've gone through ... and still be here if I didn't care about you?" 

"No, I know you care about me." 

"Do you think I take relationships lightly?" 

"No," he said quietly. 

"Do you think I would ever be cruel and unfaithful like Phoebe?" 

"No," he whispered, looking distressed again, his brow furrowing. "You're the most loyal person I know." 

"Do you think I would ever be two-faced and betray you like Diana did?" 

"No." He hung his head. "Scully, don't compare yourself to them. I don't. They aren't even in your league." 

"Do you think I'm a bimbo like that chick in the Kroner, Kansas, or Bambi the bug lover." 

He smiled sadly and looked up at me, still looking tentative and said, "Of course not." 

"Do you fantasize about me when you masturbate?" 

He looked startled and nervous, slightly embarrassed. I gave him the 'be honest' look and he stuttered, "Um ... yea ... yes." 

"I fantasize about you too," I said softly. 

Now he looked flabbergasted. "You do?" 

I nodded. "Do you find yourself wanting to touch me but holding back because you're afraid of how I'd react or afraid of being rejected ... or ruining our friendship? So you turn away from me and that feeling but it leaves this ... ache inside?" 

He blinked rapidly, licking his lips. "How did you know?" he asked quietly, hanging his head again. 

"Because that's what is happening to me. Almost every day now," I confessed. 

"Oh God, Scully." He looked up and met my gaze. "Don't ever be afraid to touch me. Those moments ... when you touch me ... for any reason ... I live for those moments, Scully." 

I cupped his face in both hands and said, "Look at me, I need to see your eyes for this one." 

He met my gaze and I could still see the fear there, but there was something else ... hope? 

"Mulder ... I need to know what kind ..." 

I swallowed harshly feeling the butterflies in my stomach have a party. 

"Ask me," he whispered. "What do you need to know?" 

"I know you love me, Mulder." He bit his lip and his eyes became wet again but he didn't cry. "But are you _in love_ with me?" 

He blinked slowly and I stared into eyes. His bottom lip quivered slightly but then he whispered, "Yes!" 

I smiled feeling my heart rate accelerate. "Do you want me?" 

"Yes!" he hissed, looking over my shoulder. He added, "You know I do." 

"In what way?" 

He jerked slightly, surprised by the question. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean, do you want me just as a lover?" 

"No! I want that too, but ..." 

"But?" 

"I can't believe I just told you that." 

I locked my eyes with his again and smiled. "What do you want, Mulder?" 

His eyes locked with mine and I saw all the love and respect and tenderness for me flowing out of them and caught my breath. He took a deep breath. His voice was low and gravel when he answered, "I want to be as close to you as I can get, as close as you'll let me be. I want to share ... as much as you'll let me share with you." He paused and then said, "I'm greedy. I want everything, Scully." 

He lips twisted into a grimace of fear and sadness over having told me the truth finally. He was still afraid of how I was going to react. 

That was what I needed to know. He wanted everything. I was still nervous, but I wasn't scared. I stood up and he followed me, slowly getting to his feet. "Here goes everything," I mumbled. I twirled around presenting my back to him and said, "Get that for me, would you darling?" 

He issued a quick bark of laughter as I mimicked J. Then he reached up to gently ply the knot apart at the back of my neck. I shivered at the feel of his warm fingers on my neck. I felt it loosen and I let the halter slide over my breasts and pool around my waist. He whispered, "Oh God, Scully, you're so soft." 

His hands landed on my shoulders. I could feel a slight tremor in them and delighted in the fact that I was affecting him so much. I could feel the heat rolling off his body. "You're so beautiful. Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmured. 

"What do I do to you? Tell me." 

His voice rumbled into my ear, "You make me insane. I've never felt desire like I feel when I look at you." 

His hand traveled off my shoulders and gently down my back, his fingers exploring my skin. His words and the heat of his hands made me feel like I was melting and I moaned gently and quietly when his hands landed on the bare skin of my waist and slid up to brush the sides of my breasts. "Touch me," I whispered. 

My nipples hardened and tingles ran down my sides. His hands slowly and tentatively traveled around to the front, splaying out over my rib cage. A little, "Oh!" escaped me when his hand brushed the underside of my breast. 

He pressed his torso against my back and said, "Scully, are you sure this is what you want?" 

"I'm sure," I replied, glad my voice didn't crack. 

"Because if you let me touch you this way, there's no going back. Ever. No one else, ever again." 

"I know." 

"You'll be mine then, Scully. ALL mine. I love you too much to do this half way. It's all or nothing. It's a lot to ask, I know. But you need to know that you'll ... _belong_ to me. I can't do this any other way and survive it." 

I shuddered internally, hearing the dark possessiveness in his voice. Oddly, it didn't make me rebel, it aroused me. "I know I will. But will you _belong_ to me?" I asked. 

His face came down and he rested his cheek against mine. I could feel his razor stubble and his silk shirt against my bare skin and it felt divine. I turned my head to see his face and he said, "I've already belonged to you for years, Scully. You own my soul." 

"Oh Christ," I whimpered, overwhelmed at the realization of what that meant. He needed me easily as much as I needed him. If I let him in, he would give me absolutely everything he had to give. And he would expect the same in return. This was the love of fairy tales, the love people dreamed of but never really believed existed, unless they found it. I'd be a fool to walk away from this, to deny this. Our passion might consume us both, but right now, I didn't care. I wanted to be consumed. It had been so long. 

I looked down and was overwhelmed by the site of his large brown hands on my white skin. My heart beat a rapid tattoo under his touch. I placed my hands over his. His fingers flexed and he said, "Are you O.K. doing this here or would you rather wait?" 

He was still hedging his bets, giving me a stall, a way out if I chose to take it. I only had one concern and I voiced it. "Will J mind if we do this here?" I asked. 

He snorted. "No, he'll be screaming, 'I told you so!' He'll probably do a cartwheel!" 

I chuckled. "Then make love to me, Mulder." 

He groaned, bending his knees and pressing himself full length against my back. I could feel his erection against my low back, hot and hard. I pushed my back against it, feeling the soft denim slide over my skin. He grunted and then groaned low in my ear. "I want you so badly." 

"It's time." 

He spun me around and stared for a long while at my breasts. His hands, resting on my waist, slid up to cup each breast, testing the weight of them. My nipples hardened to sharp peaks and when his thumbs brushed over them I yelped and felt a shock rip from my breast down to sting my clit and make it buzz. 

His hands slid down and slipped under the waist of my dress, continuing down over my hips and down my thighs, taking the dress with them. He knelt down in front of me and I stepped out of the pool of my dress. He tossed it behind him and looked up at me, gasping loudly. 

I grinned, loving the look of total amazement and shock when he saw that I wasn't wearing any panties. He mumbled, "Whoa. Good thing I didn't know you were naked under that dress all night." 

I was now standing there in nothing but my black stockings. His fingertips played with the elastic at the top of my stockings and he looked up at me and said, "So sexy against your white skin. I can't decide whether to take them off or not." 

His voice was husky with arousal and I felt my nether lips swell and grow slick. He decided to leave them on apparently because his hands slid up to grasp my hips. He slipped a knee between my feet and nudged my ankle. I spread my legs a little wider, realizing what he was going to do as he stared at my apex. The course curls over my sex were stuck together in clumps of moisture that had been leaking out of me all night. It's a wonder I didn't have a wet spot on the back of the dress. 

His hands slid around back and cupped my ass. He looked up at me and holding my eyes, he lowered his mouth to my juncture. He breathed hot, moist air onto my sensitive nerves and my hips bucked involuntarily. He whispered, "I've been wanting to do this for years." 

I was overwhelmed with tenderness for him and slipped my fingers into his thick chestnut hair, combing it away from his face, scratching his scalp lightly. He moaned and shivered and let his mouth drop onto my sex in a open mouthed kiss. I barked out an exclamation, "Oh God!" as the shock of the long forgotten feeling assaulted me. 

His words were slurred as he talked against my skin, "Oh gooll ... sof ... fwet." 

I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a man's mouth on my sex. And I didn't care because this was like having a hot fudge sundae with sprinkles after having eaten only plain vanilla in a stale cone all your life. I was so wet, it was dripping out of me and running down the insides of my thighs, soaking into the top of the lace on my stockings. Now it was soaking the lower half of his face. 

"Mmmm," he hummed against me. 

When his talented tongue entered my hot passage, my knees buckled and I squeaked, "Oh shit." 

I felt him chuckle against me, his tentativeness seeming to have fled. I guess once he got the green light, he was all business. He probably knew how good he was at this. God bless his oral fixation. His tongue stabbed at my opening, and he retreated, slurping my overflowing juices into his mouth and humming as though he were eating ambrosia. 

A long finger slipped inside me to replace his tongue and my muscles involuntarily clamped down on them. He moaned, having moved his mouth to cover my clit and I felt the vibrations assault my sensitive little center and I cried out, "Oh Jesus, Mulder!" 

He added a second finger and began fucking me hard and fast with his fingers, curling them in toward the front wall of my swollen passage. I nearly fell over backwards when he found my G-spot. My knees buckled again as my entire abdomen melted into a puddle of buzzing warmth, my womb cringing with every pass over that tender spot. 

His left arm banded under my ass for support. If he hadn't been holding on, I wouldn't be standing right now. My hands went to his shoulders for support. I looked down just in time to see him flick his tongue out and begin poking at my clit. Then he would lave it with his tongue, giving it a hard lick. 

Poke, lick. Poke, lick. Poke, lick. He never stopped finger fucking me although his pace had slowed a bit. 

I was whimpering as my legs trembled with tension. "Oh, Mulder. Oh God. Right there. Oh Jesus. That's the spot. That's the spot. Ohohohohoho, don't stop. Oh, you're going to make me come with that sexy mouth. God, I've always loved your mouth, Mulder!" 

He groaned again, this time sucking my clit into his mouth, trapping tightly between his lips and raked his abrasive tongue over it from underneath. Forgetting any attempt to be quiet. I shouted, "Mmmuuullldddeeerrr! Oh shit, yyyeeesss! Ahhh, Ahhh, Ahhh, OHMYGOD!" 

My orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, rocking my body with tremors and making my thighs quiver with release and my ass clench with wave after wave of pleasure. 

I glanced down and realized he was still fully dressed. For some reason, the image of this big, dark man kneeling at my feet, fully clothed and eating me out slammed into my brain and I felt my body start to spasm all over again as he suckled and laved my clit, stroking my G-spot hard with every pass of his fingers, prolonging my orgasm for a length of time I hadn't thought possible. 

My quivering died down and my legs gave out completely as I crumpled to the floor on my knees, my legs spread wide, grasping at his shoulders for purchase. He held me while I trembled with aftershocks. Finally I looked up at him and said, "Damn, Mulder, and you haven't even kissed me yet." 

He grinned like a maniac and swooped down to assault my mouth. My release having left my bones feeling like dishrags didn't seem to prevent my arousal from sweeping through me all over again as he plundered my mouth with hard, passionate kissing, his tongue battling with mine for control. I gave up and let him take over. I couldn't even think anymore. 

Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and pressed it to his crotch. God help me, he felt huge. I squeezed through the denim and he groaned. I could listen to that sexy sound all night and determined it wouldn't be the last time I heard it tonight. Then he muttered, "Can't believe I'm really touching you." 

We scrambled to our feet and I fell backwards onto the bed. I made to rise and he croaked out, "No stay there." 

His eyes scanned my body as he pulled off his boots, shed his pants and socks and nearly ripped his shirt off. One button did go flying. I chuckled at his haste but then I gasped when yanked his boxers down and his erection sprung free, bouncing and jutting out toward me, the weight of it pulling down. 

My God. He was hung like a horse. I'd always suspected that but seeing it was still a shock. I hadn't been thinking about it at that moment. His shaft was long, his head having leaked precum into his navel when it was still trapped in his pants. He wasn't just long, he was big around, his engorged head the size of the plum. I moaned, feeling my crotch flood with wetness at the sight of it, knowing how good it was going to feel inside me. He crawled up onto the bed, maneuvering me up and into the middle of the bed. He straddled me and I reached between us, wrapping my fingers around him and stroking down to the root. 

He was so thick my fingers didn't meet as they wrapped around his root. He groaned and bucked into my hand as I continued to stroke him, letting my palm smear his precum over the wide head. I actually wondered if it would fit inside me. "You're so big, Mulder!" 

One corner of his mouth jerked up in amusement. "I think you're just small," he croaked out. "I'm not John Holmes," he joked. 

"If you don't think this is big, Mulder, you watch way too much porn." He chuckled and I blushed. "Glad you like it," he said around a chuckle. 

I had a brief flash of embarrassment as I realized Jamie was just on the other side of the hall and we weren't being quiet in any way, shape or form. 

The thought was gone as quickly as it came, because Mulder chose that moment to descend between my thighs, pulling my hand off him to pinning my hands at the side of head. His mouth attacked my turgid nipple, sucking hard, nipping fiercely and then licking to sooth it. Bolts of sensation rushed through my nipples and my clit answered the call with a mighty throb every time he nipped or suckled me hard. I was writhing underneath him, no longer able to stay still. 

My hands were pinned but I was arching my back and lifting my hips in offering. I panted, "Oh Mulder, please!" 

He grunted, but merely moved to the other side and attacked the other nipple. I cried out again and kept squirming beneath him. I'd never writhed! I hadn't even really known what that word meant until now. 

I jerked my hands loose and began exploring his body, loving the feel of his muscles tensing and releasing beneath my hands. I was in a maelstrom of arousal and need. I never knew it could be like this. I'd heard my own voice as though in a tunnel as I broke down and begged. "Mulder, please! I can't... can't take it! Oh please, I need you ... inside ... inside me!" 

The groan that sounded from him was primal and so filled with longing and desire, I shuddered at the sound of it. 

* * *

* * *

**PART 5 (NC-17)**  
**JAMIE LEVEAU'S APARTMENT**  
**RICHMOND, VA**  
The Wee Hours of the Morning 

The way she was responding to me was making feel dizzy with excitement. Even in my wildest fantasies, she wasn't so uninhibited and responsive. Every touch, every kiss, brought a gasp or a sound from her. She moaned, gasped and whimpered beneath me, making me quake with desire. Then she begged me to take her and the room spun around me as I experienced a wave of vertigo. I shut my eyes, breathing deeply to regain my equilibrium. 

My hands cradled her head as my sex throbbed at her juncture. "Scully," I rasped out, feeling my arms tremble slightly. I could feel her moisture saturating the tip of my cock. 

She stilled her squirming hips as we panted in each other's faces. My eyes locked with hers and I told her for the first time without humor or reservation or drugs, "I love you so much it hurts." 

She sobbed once and pulled my head down to kiss me deeply. As we conveyed our feelings through our kiss, I slid my body slowly inside hers, giving her time to adjust to my size. I pulled back some and slid in again, finally sinking in all the way. Our kiss broke around our mutual groans and her breath hitched and she gasped, "Oh God, Mulder. I've never been this full. You feel better than I ever dreamed." 

"You're so small inside. Feels fantastic, so good." She dreamed about me? I kissed her again, beginning to thrust slowly. The feeling of her slick but unbelievably tight body embracing my aching flesh was exquisite. 

Our mutual cries of joy and pleasure blended into a divine musical of passion as we positively reveled in each other's bodies for the first time. I couldn't help muttering, "Oh my God, feels fantastic. Oh shit, you're so tight, so small. OHGOD! Scully! Feels so good!" 

Over six years of love, longing and lust were building into a soul shattering orgasm. I moaned continuously as I sped up a little, sinking into her over and over, feeling my balls plastered against her ass every time I pushed deeply inside her, stretching the entrance to her womb. 

I could feel her stockings rub against my hipbones where her legs were wrapped around my waist. Those black stockings were like something out of one of my most lurid fantasies. She was innocence and decadence all at the same time. It made my burn with desire. I didn't want to go too fast. I wanted this to last as long as possible. And I wanted to feel her come while I was inside her. 

I wasn't kidding. I'd never felt anything this tight. I didn't even grip myself this tight when I jerked off. I almost had to force myself in, she was so small. Pushing past that resistance and burying my incredibly rigid cock to the hilt, feeling her snug walls pressed aside, was a new exquisite pleasure I'd never experienced. She wrapped around me like a loving fist from top to bottom. I whispered, "I've never been this hard." 

I swiveled my hips against her pubic bone at the bottom of each thrust, and she whimpered out the most erotic sound of pleasure and I felt her body grasp mine over and over as she broke apart in my arms, shaking and crying out my name. "Mmmuullldddeeerrr! Oh Jesus! Oh God! Can't believe! Aaaahhhh! Aaaahhhh!" 

Her crying out my name was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. I felt relief that I'd made her come again. I wasn't sure I would be able to hold out long enough to make it happen. But now that it had, I was no longer able to hold out, her shrieks of pleasure and the gripping of my aching cock too much to bear. 

I cried out in ecstasy and joy as my body burned and flooded her with my essence. I felt as though we merged into one being as the pleasure raced through me. "OOHH GGOODD, SCCUULLYY! I love you, I love you! Sweet Jesus!" I shouted as my orgasm continued. I didn't ever remember one lasting this long. 

I could feel and hear her joy and relief in her release. It washed over me in waves like a healing balm. I had given her this pleasure. Me. I collapsed onto her strong, tiny body, disoriented and still moaning in delight. She whispered in my ear, her voice sultry and sated, "I love you, Mulder. I knew you'd be an incredible lover, but it was better than I even thought it would be." 

I panted out, "You've have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, Scully. I'm not nearly done with you. You ain't seen nothing yet." 

"I'm looking forward to it," she replied, a smile in her voice. We both chuckled as we lay shivering and trembling with aftershocks. I felt so complete, sated and utterly blessed at that moment. I felt a joy that I didn't know existed. A peace stole over me as I lay there cradled in her arms and legs, my flaccid member unwilling to leave it's warm haven just yet. 

This is what life was all about. Sharing love and passion with your soulmate. For that's what she was to me. My perfect opposite. When I regained control of my breathing and muscles, I lifted my head and kissed her gently with reverence and awe. She was my shrine and I would worship here till the day I died. My love was reflected back at me as she returned my kiss with an understanding and tenderness that stole my breath away. 

We groaned as I finally rolled away from her, feeling the sweat beginning to cool on my body. She rolled over to cling to my side, whispering, "God, Mulder, that was the most beautiful, powerful experience I've ever had. I didn't know it could be like that." 

She squeezed me tight and I returned her hug. I kissed her neck and whispered into her ear. "I love you doesn't even to begin to explain what I feel for you, how essential you are to me." 

She tilted her head up to look at me. "Why did we wait so long?' she asked, sounding truly confused. I was trying to remember the reasons myself. 

I gave her one word, "Fear." 

"No more fear, O.K., Mulder?" 

I smiled, feeling giddy and exhausted. "I was so afraid you didn't really love me back, not the way I loved you. Sometimes it hurt so bad to want you and I just felt pathetic." 

"Did I change your mind?" 

"Yes! Lord, Scully, I ... felt it. I know that sounds crazy, but I felt your love for me." 

"It's not crazy. What did it feel like?" 

"Like a cleansing fire that filled in all my cracks." 

"All your cracks?" she asked, swallowing a bubble of laughter. 

I smiled again, feeling goofy. "All the cracks in my psyche, in my soul. Scully, I think I feel like a whole and complete person for the first time in my life." 

She hummed and then said, "Me too." 

"I feel like a Phoenix, risen from the ashes." 

"I love you, Mulder." 

"I love you too. I know we need to talk, Scully." 

"Not tonight." 

"Sleep now, then?" 

"Hmm, sleep ..." she trailed off. 

I looked down and realized she'd fallen asleep in mid sentence. I cradled her gently, slipping into the arms of Morpheus. I didn't dream of monsters and panic over evil coming to get me. I simply slept the sleep of the sated and euphoric man. 

* * *

I woke to the harsh light of the sun streaming in the window. I was practically laying on top of Mulder, my legs tangled with his, my body draped over an entire half of his torso. I felt lazy and sated. 

Oh God help me, the way he made me feel. The man worshipped me. That frightened me a little, but it also thrilled me. I did indeed, belong to him. Oddly, there was no sense of binding in that realization. Only a freedom and a relief at finally being able to show my feelings. Every woman dreams of having a man love them the way Mulder loves me ... with everything he has, every fiber of his being. Few ever find that kind of love. And to think, I almost let it slip through my fingers because I was afraid. How could I have doubted him? How could I have doubted that he loved me this way? How had I never seen it? 

The questions were moot now. I knew now. I loved him with equal fervor and I planned on making sure he knew it every day for the rest of his life. Here I was feeling a little stupid and pathetic because I needed him so much. And I didn't want to need anyone. Come to find out he needs me as much if not more than I need him. Why couldn't I see it? 

Enough with the questions. There was a large expanse of tanned Mulder chest beneath my cheek. I turned my head and gave an experimental lick. He moaned softly in his sleep, whispering, "Scully ..." 

I smiled and sucked the skin below his nipple, loving the feel of his muscles quivering under my mouth. When my tongue swirled around his nipple and then sucked it into my mouth, teasing it's hard, little nob, he groaned and woke, his pelvis lifting off the bed. 

He looked down at me. I pretended not to notice and just moved on to explore his chest with my tongue. I moved up to his neck and clamped onto his pulse, sucking hard and grazing him with my teeth. His voice was low and sleepy but so aroused. "Aaawww, Scully. It wasn't a dream! I'm really here. Oh, God." He paused, then sounding surprised, "You like morning sex?" 

I smiled against his skin and moved down to rib cage. I teased, "What makes you think that?" 

"Because you HAVE to know how dangerous what you are doing is, don't you?" 

"I think I'd like morning sex with YOU," I shrugged and he chuckled. His humor cut off abruptly as my hand wrapped around his cock, now hard and heavy in my hand. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed. 

I took as much of him as I could into my mouth and sucked, retreating and bathing him with my tongue. "Ooohhhh, Scccuuulllyyy ..." his voice quivered out, making me feel a rush of warmth in my body, knowing that I was affecting him. I'd dreamt of it, but the reality was stunning. I glanced up to look at his face. His beautiful face was held in a expression of intense arousal, his mouth open, his eyes shut, his jaw moving slightly with his breath, was which becoming ragged. 

I bobbed up and down his shaft, sucking and tasting him. I wrapped my hand around the portion I couldn't fit into my mouth and worked his shaft along with my hand, along with my mouth. I'd deep throated before, but he was just too big. I didn't know if I would ever be able to take all of him. But I would have fun trying! 

He pried me away and I let go with an audible pop. He pulled me up, jostling my body like a rag doll. I continued to stroke him, loving the feel of his hot, silky hardness pulsing in my hand. I whispered, "I have to ask ... how big are you, Mulder? Don't tell me you never measured this thing," I teased. 

He barked out a burst of embarrassed laughter. "It's ... ah ..." 

I squeezed him hard and he blurted out, "Na, na, nine!" 

Holy shit, he was nine inches long. I shuddered, realizing how far up inside me he had been. I wouldn't have even thought there were nine inches inside me, or that I could stretch that far. The human body was an amazing thing. I had to feel it again. I groaned, feeling myself flood with wetness again. "Take me again, Mulder," I moaned. 

He rolled me over onto my stomach, jamming a pillow under my hips. 

He covered me, one hand sliding under me and sliding down to test my readiness. "So wet," he muttered, upon feeling my swollen labia engorged and soaking between my legs. 

"You make me like this," I whispered. 

"It's like a dream. I can really do this to you." he muttered under his breath, obviously talking to himself, still slightly disbelieving that he excited me this way. 

He grunted and slid both hands to my hips, beginning the long slide inside. My muscles spasmed and he stopped. "Go!" I yelped. 

He grunted, pulling back a little and pushing in again, a little deeper this time. A few determined strokes later, he was almost in and my muscles were stretching to accommodate him. I willed my body to relax. "You O.K.?" he asked, panting into my ear. 

"Yes, give me all of it." 

He groaned, pulled back until just the head rested inside my throbbing labia and then slammed his rigid cock into me in one stroke, burying his huge shaft to the balls. I yelped and cried out at the pleasure/ pain of his sudden intrusion. He held still and asked, "Oh shit. Did I hurt you?" 

"No, you're just ... really ... Big! And it's been a while." 

He make a sound of amusement and began to pump in and out of my at a languid pace, pressing my hips into the pillow. His strong thighs bracketed mine and squeezed them together. It made a mighty tight fit for him and we both groaned in unison. 

His pace accelerated and I lost control of my vocal chords as the waves of pleasure washed through me. The feel of him, hot and hard, made me quiver and whimper as my muscles burned, ached and then fluttered around his enormous cock. The feeling was exquisite. He began to pump me hard and fast, but kept his strokes long and deep. 

I felt a flash of embarrassment as I realized I was still wearing my stockings from the night before. But he didn't seem to mind, or even notice. 

I don't think he realized he was chanting quietly in little pants. "Oh fuck, so tight, oh fuck, so tight, oh fuck, so tight." 

I felt my orgasm coil in my gut and shouted, "So close, oh God, Mulder, Yes!" 

He grunted and began to hit me even harder, his cock slamming into me. The added sensation of his hips smacking into my ass and his balls slapping my clitoris made me delirious. I began crying out, "Yes! Fuck me hard, Mulder! Give me all of it. So deep this way! Stuff it in. Oh, push hard. Fuck me hard!" 

I loved the feeling of his incredibly hard cock as it pushed past the resistance of my protesting muscles and plowed deep into my body, ignoring the size of my long unused entrance that shouldn't have been able to accept him. He was in so deep. 

I was stretched so wide and my muscles were sore from last night. It wasn't pain. More of an arousing ache. The pleasure/pain of his huge cock being shoved, almost forced into me as my aching walls protested, was unlike any pleasure I'd ever known. 

No one had ever penetrated me this deep and I felt a pressure deep in my abdomen that I knew I'd never felt before. It made my entire pelvis throb and ache as he slammed into my cervix, sinking in from above and punishing my G-spot like it had never been punished. I felt my labia stretch and roll as he retreated, pulling the skin back along his shaft as he yanked his hips back with every stroke. 

I whimpered and a quivered like a woman possessed, no coherent words able to be formed. My whole body convulsed as my release hit me like a stinging slap. "I'm coommiinngg!" I shouted. It didn't sound stupid at the time. 

My scalp tingled, my clit jumped and my womb cringed, as he continued to plow into me, not even slowing down. My thighs vibrated with the intense rippling pleasure as my orgasm continued to wash over me. I found my voice and shouted, "Mulder! Yes, yes, yeehhheeesss!" 

He shouted, "Ahhh, God Scully! Yes, you're coming for me!" as he felt me grip him harshly as I rode out the most intense orgasm of my life. I was totally delirious. 

I felt his sweat land on my back in cool droplets as they fell from his face and hair. He was like a machine, continuing to pound me. His mouth came down to nip at my shoulders as his pace slowed slightly. But he continued to hit me hard, my now over-sensitized tunnel fluttering in confusion at the continued pleasurable assault. 

His lips near my ear and his voice was ragged with ecstasy. He muttered, again, I think unaware, "Love your tiny, little body. Love your tiny, little body. Love your tiny, little body." Then, "Oh Christ, I'm inside Scully. Oh Christ, I'm inside Scully. Make her come again. Gotta make her come again." 

He sucked on the back on my neck. One hand slid under me to grasp my breast. His fingers found my nipple and pinched. I felt pleasure ripple through me as I peaked again. "Awww, yeah!" he shouted. "I've never been squeezed so hard!" 

His lips met the skin below and behind my ear and sucked in as I listened to him drag noisy breaths in through his nostrils as my orgasm ended. 

I worked my hand down under me and between his legs. Each time his balls slapped my soaking crotch with a splat, I curled my fingers up to catch his sack as it retreated, feeling his testicles roll as they slid backwards over my fingers. "Your turn, Mulder. Let go for me, baby." 

He let go of my neck and began to chant. "Oh yeah, oh yeah, Scully! Do That! Oh sweet Jesus. Oh feels so good. Touch my balls. Oh a little more, a little harder. Oh, I'm gonna come, wanna come. Squeeze a little. Oh yeah, oh yeah, ooohhh ffuucckk!" 

I pressed my hand harder against his sack as he made his final thrusts, wrapping my fingers around his sack. That did it. 

"Ssscccuuulllyyy!" my name tore out of his throat I felt his hips shudder against my ass and press deep as he found his release. My tunnel was awash in his hot seed. His cock remained inside but he rocked his hips against me in shallow, quick thrusts, massaging the the head of his cock against my G-spot as his hot seed splashed inside me. I think it was a lucky accident, but maybe he knew what he was doing. 

Out of his mind with the force of his orgasm, he wailed, "Your little cunt is soooo ffuucckkiinngg ttiigghhtt!" 

I shouted as I felt my walls spasm again, pulling gently on his nuts, milking him for every drop. He collapsed onto my back and croaked, "Jesus, Scully. I'm an old man. I don't know how many orgasms like that I can take." 

"You were amazing, Mulder." 

"Me? You ... God, Scully. I can't even describe how intense that was" He paused. "Did you call me, baby?" 

I laughed and buried my face in the pillow. "Yeah, I think I did." 

He feathered his lips over the back of my neck and whispered, "I liked it ... a lot!" 

I didn't know what to say so I decided to change the subject and said, "We've destroyed these sheets. They may never be the same again. I clenched my muscles and felt warm jism slide out of me around his now flaccid cock. It coated the inside of my thighs. He grunted and rolled off me, causing a gush of sperm and my own juices to exit my body. "Uuhh!" I made a sound of disgust. 

He laughed and rolled off the bed, coming to his feet like an agile cat. I looked at the clock and gasped. "My God, Mulder, it's 10:00 AM!" 

He laughed again. "We slept in." 

"I'll say. Christ, we need to get to work." 

"Calm down, Scully. Let's take a shower first." 

"What about J?" 

"What about J?" he repeated. 

I huffed out a breath. "Go take a shower," commanded. 

He reached out and grasped my wrist, tugging me to the edge of the bed and standing me up. I made a face as I gestured to my legs. "I'm a mess." 

He smiled and said, "Come with me." 

"No, Mulder, just go take a shower." 

"Scully," he began, dropping into his professor mode, "You screamed your head off last night and less than ten minutes ago, you hollered out for the world to hear that you were coming." 

I blushed to the roots of my hair, covering my face with my hands. He chuckled and then continued. "And NOW you're going to get modest and worry about what J thinks?" 

"Oh God," I muttered. 

His arm came around my shoulders and his lips dropped to my ear. "Don't worry about it, but expect some teasing. I for one, loved it. You were magnificent." 

"Me? YOU!" I shrugged, unsure what I wanted to say. 

He peeked into the hallway. "No one out here. Run in the bathroom and I'll bring in some towels and clothes. Go on." 

I raced out into the hallway, feeling extremely exposed and sighed with relief once inside the bathroom and swung the door shut. I started up the shower and climbed in. Mulder appeared moments later with towels and our toiletry bags. He handed me my shampoo around the curtain and I began to wash my hair. 

We showered and washed each other's backs, laughing for no good reason at all, just thrilled to be together like this finally. 

* * *

He was bopping around the kitchen wearing a barbeque apron that said, "This Is No Ordinary Housewife You're Dealing With". We hooted with laughter as he turned to greet us, the biggest shit eating grin on his face. His hair was hanging loose down his back and he flipped some eggs in the frying pan heating on the stove. He started in immediately. 

"Morning, sleepy heads. How are you two love birds this morning?" 

Scully turned the color of a tomato again, doing an about face and heading back out of the kitchen. I laughed and grabbed her up around the waist and lifting her off the floor. She squealed, "Mulder, put me down!" 

I laughed, swinging her around and placing her gently on her feet. I smiled at J over her head, leaving my arms around her waist. "Be gentle with her J. If you tease too much, she WILL bolt. She won't take as much of your shit as I will." 

He grinned. "You don't need to be embarrassed." 

"Yeah, right!" Scully exclaimed and broke out of my arms. I watched her carefully to determine if she was really upset. But her quick smile at me told me she was all right. I was so afraid that in the light of day she would be awkward. That might come later, but so far, so good. 

J grinned at me again and said, "I heard the shower going so I started rustling up some eggs. He scraped the eggs onto a big plate and set them on the kitchen counter with some plates and silverware. "Help yourself." 

He pulled bacon out of the microwave and patted it with a paper towel then set that down too. "Smells delicious." 

We each took a plate and silverware and dug in. He poured coffee and brought milk and sugar to the table and finally sat down to eat himself. "I slept late too." 

Scully turned to him. "Did we throw you off your schedule?" 

"Oh no, I'm used to working late at the Club and sleeping late in the morning. I did, uh, stay up later than usual though." 

"Oh," she gasped out, starting to color again. 

"Yeah, there was this awful racket going on next door." 

Scully choked on her forkful of eggs and whipped a napkin up to her face. I laughed out loud, I couldn't help it. "That's enough, J," I said, trying to suppress my chuckles. 

He grinned mercilessly and without remorse. Then he sighed deeply and dramatically, turning his face to Scully and giving her a moony look. "Some girls have all the luck." 

Scully laughed then and the sound of it was musical. I rarely saw her laugh. She was so beautiful when she laughed. I had no idea where we were going to go from here. But the impossible had happened. She was in love with me and we'd made love. There was no going back now. I hoped she really did understand that. I wouldn't be able to let her go now. 

We ate in silence for a while and finally J said, "Soooo...." 

We smiled at him, keeping our silence. His face fell. "Ah, come on!" he exclaimed, an exaggerated pout on his face. Scully and I both laughed at him then. 

When I got my mirth under control I said, "J ... thank you." 

"For what?" he asked airily, knowing exactly what I was talking about. 

He couldn't just say 'you're welcome.' Oh no. He'd never made it easy for me and he wasn't going to now. I cleared my throat. "For being here, opening my eyes ... " 

Scully smiled a shy smile. J tilted his head at me and said, "My pleasure, " he said, his voice utterly sincere. 

Scully coughed, gently this time and said, "I owe you a thanks too. I don't know what it is, but I told you things last night I've never told anyone." 

He beamed. "That's a good thing, right?" 

Scully nodded, smiling a close lipped smile at him. "Yeah, it is. Mulder was right, you're very easy to talk to." 

"I don't think so," I teased. "You were a bit brutal with me last night, buddy." 

"Nothing else gets through that thick skull of yours, Fox." 

We were silent for a few moments, sipping our coffee. "So what now?" he asked. 

"What do you mean?" Scully asked. 

"You two going to be all right or are you going to freak out once you leave this house?" 

Scully swallowed. I held my breath waiting for her answer. I was asking myself the same question. I would be all right as long as she was. I would only freak out if she had regrets. When she didn't say anything, I decided maybe I should share that. I needed to stop hiding and being embarrassed about what I felt. J was my oldest friend and Scully was my best friend. Neither one was going to judge me. I don't know why I stubbornly clung to that knee jerk reaction to hide when someone got close. I shouldn't be that way ... not with these two, at least. 

I cleared my throat again. "I'll be fine as long as you are, Scully." 

"Meaning?" 

"If you're happy ... that's all that matters to me." I paused. "If you ... think later on that this was a mistake or ..." 

"No!" she said quickly, immediately reassuring me. 

I smiled. "If you had regrets, that the one thing I don't think I could take. And that's all I'm going to say in front of J." 

I turned to him. "Sorry, but the rest is too personal." 

He nodded his acceptance. "Good. I'm really happy for you two. I mean it." 

"You're a very special person, Jamie/Jamella/J, whoever you are," Scully quipped. 

He threw his head back and laughed. "Thanks ... I think!" 

We all chuckled. I sighed, standing up and helping J clear away the plates and utensils. When the dishes were all in the sink I said, "We need to get to work, Scully." 

She sighed too, as reluctant as I was to dive back into this case. But I needed to solve this one. It was more than just closing another X-File, or exposing a potential hoax. There were five girls missing. Next week was another full moon, and I wouldn't feel J was safe until I figured this one out. 

"Where do we start? Reinterviewing." 

"Waste of time," Jamie said. 

We both looked at him. "Why?" I asked. "We often find out things that other police interrogators miss. I ask different questions." 

"I know that, but these girls ... they are mostly air heads, but ... at the same time, I feel for them. They're scared. Really scared. They don't want to talk about it. It makes it too real for them." 

"Are you scared?" I asked. 

"Yes, but not as much as they are. I don't know if this guy watches the place, is a customer or what? I wouldn't have any idea if he knew I was a guy or not." 

"Do you dress for work?" I asked, meaning in female clothing. 

"Sometimes, not always. It depends on what I'm doing afterwards. If I have to go to the Club right after, then yes. If not, it depends. I usually do though." 

Scully nodded. "I don't know where else to start though." 

"I'd like to visit each missing girls' apartment and have a look around. And Scully, we ought to call the lab and find out if they figured out what that gooey shit was on the carpet in each girls apartment." 

"I can take you to their apartments." 

"How would we get in?" 

"We'd have to go to the police station first. I can make a call." 

"You know someone at the police station?" I asked. 

A sly grin crept over his face and I raised my eyebrows. Scully smiled wide. He nodded, almost looking shy. "Yeah, let me call him." 

"Who?" I asked, blocking his retreat toward the living room. He went to duck around me and I bounced back and forth, blocking the doorway. He laughed and finally stopped trying to duck around me. 

"You're a big mother, you know that?" he said, throwing out the non-sequitar. 

I laughed. "You're just dinky." 

He made a expression of disgust with his mouth. He hated when I called him dinky. "His name is ... I probably shouldn't tell you." 

I gave him a look that said, 'Oh please.' Then added, "You know I'm not going to tell anyone. Neither is Scully." 

He took a deep breath. "O.K., you're right. Here I am asking you to tell me all about your relationship and I'm not telling you about mine." 

"Exactly," I said. 

He smiled, looking away and back at me. "His name is Daryl." 

"Daryl," I repeated, waving my hand in a gesture that asked for more. 

"Daryl Cartwright," he finally spit out. 

"Rank?" 

"He's a detective.." 

I waggled my eyebrows at him and he laughed. "Height, weight, hair color." 

"Nosey son of a bitch, aren't you?" 

"No more than you," I threw back at him. 

He crossed his arms over his chest. "It could ruin his career if it got out." 

I nodded. "You're secret's safe with us. You know you can trust us, don't you?" 

He looked at the ground and back up at me. "Yes, I know. I'm just so used to... hiding, except in places like the lounge where I can let loose." 

"I know. It sucks. I hope it works out for you. You deserve someone too, you know." 

He smiled. "I think I might have found The One, if he doesn't get the jitters and bolt on me." 

"I'm glad you have someone." 

"Well, it's still in the infancy stage." 

I smiled. "You'll do fine. Who could resist you?" 

He grinned. "You could." 

I chuckled, biting my lip. "Yeah, but I've always been different." 

He nodded, looking amused. "Yeah, you've always been different. I'll say that for you," he agreed. 

"So, describe him." 

He swallowed. "He's tall, like you, six foot." 

I nodded. 

"He's got ... " He stopped, looking nervous all of a sudden. 

"What?" I asked. 

"He's got brown hair and green eyes," he blurted out. My mouth dropped open and I saw Scully put her tongue in her cheek, picking up on the implication as fast as I did. 

He shook his head. "I swear, it's not that, Fox." 

I nodded. "It's all right," I said, proud that my voice was smooth and unruffled. 

He visibly relaxed. "I was afraid you'd think that. It's just a coincidence, I swear!" 

I leaned against the doorjamb that separated the kitchen from the living room. "Even if it wasn't, I'd be flattered, not pissed off. What else?" I asked, my question effectively telling him I wasn't upset or unnerved by what he'd said. 

He relaxed, his arms dropping to his sides. "I wasn't afraid you'd be pissed. I was afraid you'd be creeped out." 

* * *

* * *

**PART 6 (PG-13)**  
**JAMIE LEVEAU'S APARTMENT**  
**RICHMOND, VA**

"Creeped out?" 

"Yeah, you know ... " 

"J," I began. "I've known you for how many years?" 

"Almost twenty," he said softly. 

I nodded. "Now don't you think if I was homophobic or had any hang ups about that, we would have come across them by now?" I said calmly. 

Scully smiled gently at me from the other side of the kitchen, obviously approving of the way I was handling this. She was being careful to keep a low profile and stay out of it. 

He tapped his foot nervously. "I guess so." 

"I know so." 

"Yeah, but it's different when it's ... or you think it's aimed at you. We joke around, but ... well, at least with most people..." 

"I'm not most people." 

He finally met my eyes again. "I'm sorry. That's kind of insulting, isn't it? Assuming it would bother you." 

I tipped my head one way and then the other, trying to say, 'Sort of.' "I'm sorry." 

"Forget about it. We've understood each other for a lot of years. I've never worried about you suddenly not understanding where I'm coming from." 

He nodded. "All right then. Are you going to let me make this fucking phone call or what?" he asked, snapping out of his hesitant mood in a flash. I grinned and stepped aside as he went into the living room. 

He picked up the phone and dialed a number. He watched me as Scully followed us into the living room. I put my arm around her waist loosely and she leaned into me. I felt an odd swelling sensation in my chest. Oh God, we were going to be able to act like a couple! The thought of being able to show people that we were together thrilled me to no end. I was going to enjoy being able to show my love for her. She seemed relaxed now. I hoped it would last. 

What was that going to be like? I couldn't even imagine. But I was looking forward to it. I glanced down and noticed that she had a big red love bite on the base of her neck towards the back. I don't think she'd noticed. I decided not to tell her. Let others see it and know she was marked, 'this one's taken.' 

Jamie was talking. "Detective Cartwright, please." 

I hadn't noticed before, but he was still sporting those purple finger nails. I was noticing now that he was holding the phone. He was dressed in jeans and big teeshirt that he was swimming in. I wondered if it belonged to the detective. It was several sizes too big for him. He looked small and delicate standing there, his head tipped to one side, his long, shiny hair hanging off the side. 

I smiled, feeling affection for him. I really had been a rotten friend. I would have to make a better effort to spend time with him. 

Then I watched a soft smile come over his face. "Daryl," he said softly. 

He sighed. "I know. I wouldn't call you at work if it wasn't important and this isn't personal." 

He paused, listening to whatever the man on the other end was saying. 

"I have a friend who's a special agent with the FBI." 

He laughed softly then. "Didn't know I had connections, did you?" he teased. 

We smiled at him. "Listen, they need some help. They are investigating the missing girls from Dial-A-Dream." 

He paused. "Yes, I know. They need someone to let them into the houses of the missing girls." 

"Oh all right. I'll tell them." He paused. "Fox Mulder and Dana Scully." 

"As a matter of fact ..." He looked at me and grinned like a maniac. "He is a fox. Looks a lot like you." 

He looked at the ceiling and laughed again at something the guy had said. "O.K. Don't worry. I'll dress like a normal human being and act like I don't know you." 

I saw a flash of hurt cross his face but it was quickly buried. "I understand. We'll be there shortly." 

He hung up and sat on the couch. "He said they have someone staking out each of the houses. They all have keys. We just have to look for the brown unmarked cars. He's going to call each of them and tell them to expect you at some point today. So that solves the problem of getting into the apartments." 

"But we have to go to the station first?" 

"Yeah, to get the addresses. I don't have a fax here and he said, it would be easier to have you stop by. Then he could give you a copy of their entire file. He's making a copy of it now." 

"Wow!" Scully said. "We usually get a hassle from local police. They tend to be very territorial." 

I said, "Yeah, but we've got an inside track this time." 

J smiled. "He didn't catch this case. But he knows the detective that did. Said he would talk to him. He'll be waiting for us." 

"Let's get going then." I headed for the stairs. 

"Where are you going?" 

"To get our bags." 

"No you're not. You're staying here, Fox." 

"J, I appreciate the offer but we really need to get a hotel." 

"Why?" 

I gave him a 'don't be stupid' look and then he smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. We all laughed and I ran upstairs to gather our stuff. 

Just as we were headed out the door, the phone rang. J grabbed it up, "Yeallo?" he chortled into the phone. 

His smile faded and he sat on the couch. "Who is this?" he asked. 

His face was turning pale as he clutched the receiver. I was beside him in an instant, dropping to my knees. He tipped the receiver out so I could listen. All I heard was, "You're next, bitch." 

J's hands were shaking as he replaced the phone in the cradle. He covered his face with his hands. I noticed his finger nails were gone. Somehow he's removed them while I was gathering our stuff. "Oh God," he murmured. 

I stood up and he did too. He was shaking and I pulled him into a loose hug. He looked at me and said, "He must not know." 

I nodded. I hugged him to me and he hugged me back. "It's all right. I think I've changed my mind. We are going to stay here." 

I frowned grimly at Scully, "All he said was, 'You're next, bitch.' I think we should stay here." 

I looked at Scully, asking her if it was all right. She was vigorously nodding her head. "Of course!" 

J mumbled, "It was just heavy breathing before that." 

* * *

**RICHMOND POLICE DEPARTMENT**  
**PRECINCT 4**  
**DOWNTOWN RICHMOND, VA**

Detective Daryl Cartwright was an impressive man. He was tall and brown haired and green eyed. But the similarities ended there. He was in his late thirties somewhere. He had the body of a weight lifter with bulging biceps and a thick torso, very unlike Mulder's lanky, well-toned physique. His face that was oddly attractive and I could see the similarities but you'd never mistake one for the other. 

I think Mulder was a little relieved despite what he said. Not because he had a problem with J's orientation, but rather because any romantic feelings for him from J would spoil their friendship. He confirmed my suspicions when he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "He doesn't look anything like me, does he, Scully?" 

I smiled and shook my head in the negative. I whispered back, "No, you're much sexier." He grinned so wide I thought his face was going to crack. 

Daryl's jaw was very square, unlike Mulder's, but he did have a big nose like Mulder's and piercing green eyes. Mulder's were more hazel. He quickly showed himself to be friendly and cooperative. We all trudged into an interrogation room with the detective in charge of the case and sat down to go over what we had. 

The detective in charge was one, Casey Mulharen. He was a grizzled guy, hugging retirement, but there was nothing slothful about him. He was all business. I could tell his nose had been broken a couple of times. His salt and pepper hair was combed straight back and he periodically chewed on the corner of his mustache, a nervous habit that always drove me nuts on men with mustaches. 

Since J had received the unexpected phone call from someone, the Detective took his statement. "Now what?" J asked. 

"We go over everything and we trade information," Mulharen suggested. 

We all nodded. He showed us pictures of the gooey stuff, which was yet unidentified. Then he pulled out pictures of the lanugo hair found at the scenes. It was odd. 

When we were finished throwing out the facts, Mulharen said, "I have no idea what's going on here. It's weird. I wish we could find the girls." 

I nodded. "A body can tell us a lot. And that's my specialty." 

J made a face of disgust and we all laughed, then he swallowed hard, looking nervous. He was sitting next to me and I reached over, placing my hand on top of his in reassurance. He smiled at me, sadly. 

Mulharen said, "Jamie, I already took your statement and this is off the record. But I need to ask you an uncomfortable question." 

J looked at him and nodded. He smiled, showing his dimples and giving the detective a look that said, 'I knew this was coming.' "I have nothing to hide, Detective. What is it that you need to know?" 

"Well ... only girls have disappeared so far." He stopped, looking at J meaningfully. 

J made eye contact and said, "When I'm at work there, I'm a girl too. He probably doesn't know that I'm a man." 

Mulharen raised his thick, Irish eyebrows and couldn't totally suppress the smirk he threw at Cartwright. Daryl glared back at him, not amused. Mulharen looked away quickly and cleared his throat. "Care to explain that?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. 

J sighed. "I'm gay," he said, sounding bored. 

"I figured that. That doesn't explain why he would think you were a girl unless he was one of your customers." 

"He could have been. How would I know?" 

"I don't KNOW anything, but I suspect he cased the service and followed these girls. He grabbed them from home, not while they were at or leaving work. That tells me he saw them. He didn't just talk to them over the phone to get his rocks off." 

Jamie frowned at his crude statement but kept his cool. His voice was monotone but steady. "Detective, even if he saw me, he would probably think I'm a girl." 

The detective looked at him skeptically. "Look, I'm trying to shoot straight with you here. I look at you and I see an ... effeminate man, but I do know you're a man." 

"When I'm dressed like this, yes." It was J's turn to raise his eyebrows at the Detective. 

The detective flushed, "How are you dressed at work?" 

"I wear hair extensions and wigs and makeup." He paused. "Not always, but I usually wear a dress and sandals or women's shoes." 

The detective coughed into his hand and then said, "O.K., so he would think you were a girl. You can really make yourself look so female that the average person couldn't tell?" he asked. 

Mulder broke in, "Not even if they were staring." 

The detective looked at him and back at J. He hitched up on one hip and pulled out his wallet from his back pocket. He flipped it open and extracted a photo of himself as Jamella. He wasn't dressed flashy in this one, like he did for the stage. He was simply wearing a smart women's suit, off white, with a box jacket and a tight skirt, and flat bone colored leather shoes. He had on a necklace and dangling gold earrings. His hair was flipped over his shoulder to hang down one side. He tossed it carelessly across the table toward the detective. 

It spun to a stop and the detective picked it up. His mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide. "Jee..zzus!" he muttered. 

He looked between the picture and J several times, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. Then he laughed and tossed the picture back at him. "You're not a bad looking dame," he joked. 

We all laughed at that and J said, "Gee, thanks." 

We all just laughed harder. "Well .." Mulharen said, unsure what to say now. 

"Does that answer your question?" J asked. 

Mulharen nodded. He face became serious. "We need to find these girls. We don't even have a suspect, nothing." 

J bit his lip, looking so sad and scared. "He sounded ... so angry," he said quietly. "Just full of rage." 

I knew what he was thinking and picked up his hand again. 

"There's no evidence that these girls are ..." 

"Dead," he said abruptly. "I know. I also know if they aren't found in the first 48 hours, chances are ... they aren't going to be. And if they are found, chances are that ..." He stopped, looking at his lap and retrieving his hand from under mine. "I'm scared, I admit it. I'm really scared." 

I was surprised when Cartwright approached the left side of his chair and put his big hand on J's right shoulder. This left his arm draped over his shoulders. J startled and turned on the chair to look up at him. Cartwright said, "Jam, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. We'll put somebody on you. If the Lieutenant won't do it, I'll take some time coming to me and _I'll_ stay with you." 

I saw J's eyes tear up, obviously flabbergasted at this gesture that the handsome man was making, right here in the station house in front of his colleague. 

Mulharen did have an odd look on his face, probably wondering if Cartwright had a personal interest. Finally he said, "I don't think it will be necessary for you to take time off. I can request your help on this one." 

He paused and then looked at Cartwright who hastily removed his hand from J's shoulder. Mulharen asked, "Cartwright, you didn't tell me you knew ... " He glanced at his legal paid, "Jamie Leveau." 

J looked at his lap, realizing that Cartwright's gesture had just revealed that they knew each other outside of this case. There was nothing damning in that but it was unusual for a cop to touch a witness unless they knew them. I could see the fear on J's face. 

This was exactly the type of thing that could not only ruin Cartwright's career, but could ruin J's chances at a relationship with him. Daryl had done nothing to indicate his sexual preferences, but the fact that he'd called him by a pet name, Jam, was a sure indicator that they were close. The veteran detective hadn't survived 25 years on the force because he stupid or incapable of making obvious inferences. 

To all of our surprise, Cartwright squared his shoulders and looked Mulharen in the eyes. He said, "Yes, we're friends." He paused. "Good friends. You have a problem with that?" His voice was like a challenge. 

His look dared the other detective to pursue it. Mulharen shrugged and said, "No problem here. Well, that's good, I guess." He looked at J. "You can give us an inside look at the world of 1-900 operators. I need to know how that place operates." 

J flinched, but I hadn't heard any censure or disapproval in the detective's tone. J looked up at him and met his eyes. "What do you need to know?" he asked quietly. 

* * *

Before we left the station house, Cartwright had talked to their Lieutenant and with the request and help of Mulharen, had gotten himself assigned to the case. He was to body guard and protect the witness and assist Mulharen in any way he could. We agreed to check out the apartments and report any findings to Mulharen. 

He was staying behind to work on another case. 

As the four of rode to the first location, the silence was thick in the car. It was becoming really uncomfortable. J sat in the back with Daryl. I finally turned around on my seat and asked, "J, are you all right?" 

He nodded, not saying anything. I saw Daryl slide his hand across the seat. He grasped J's fingers and squeezed them quickly, then let go. J smiled up at him and said, "You put yourself in a very dangerous situation, Daryl." 

He nodded. "I know, but I'm tired of ducking at the first sign of somebody swinging, if you know what I mean?" 

I nodded and then said, "J, people can speculate all they want, but they have no proof." 

"They don't need proof. You know that. Just a suspicion." 

Mulder piped up. "Look, he's officially assigned to the case to be your personal protection. No one is going to question him hovering over you for the next few days." 

"Not for right now, but what happens when the case is over?" 

Daryl replied. "We cross that bridge when we come to it. I'm not really worried. Mulharen is close to retirement and he doesn't give a shit. I mean, he's sharp and a good detective, don't get me wrong. But he doesn't have time to be stirring up shit amongst the other detectives. He's mature and he has better things to do. Even if he suspects I'm gay, he has no proof and he's not going to say anything. I don't really think he cares." 

I said, "J, just because he knows you and Daryl are friends, doesn't mean he's gay, anyway." 

"I know that! I'm not stupid!" 

I flinched. "Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you were." 

"No, I'm sorry, Agent Scully. I'm just nerved up and ..." 

"It's all right." 

Daryl said, "It's like this J," he shrugged. "You're more important to me than my job. It's that simple. I can always go work for another department if I have to." 

J leaned across the seat and hugged Daryl's neck. Daryl slipped his arms loosely around his waist, and kissed the top of his head. J said, "I don't want something to happen to your career because of me and have you resent me for it later." 

Daryl brushed J's hair back from his face and gazed at him with a teasing smirk on his face. "No more guilt. You hear me? I made MY choice." 

J nodded, blinking back his tears and righted himself on the seat, leaning back and letting his head flop back against the backrest. He whispered, "I don't deserve you." 

Mulder glanced in the rear view but then returned his eyes to the road. "J, I for one am glad that Daryl is staying with you. This way, if we have to go out or whatever, he can be there. Between the three of us we can ensure that you won't be left alone, even for a minute." 

"Oh great," he deadpanned. 

Mulder laughed. "I know it's going to crimp your style for a bit, but we can't take the risk of leaving you alone. That call may have been a prank. It could be some copycat with a twisted sense of humor, thinking it would be fun to scare the girls. This has been in the papers too. Every idiot with an IQ above 50 is going to have a theory." 

J laughed then and so did Daryl. Mulder continued. "But on the off chance that it WAS our guy ... I don't want you left alone for a second. We have to assume it was him and take every precaution." 

"I agree," Daryl said. 

Mulder added, "This guy won't get near you, J. I promise." Daryl nodded in agreement. 

J sighed, "I don't really have a choice, do I?" 

Mulder and Daryl both said at the same time, "No!" 

* * *

We all chuckled and proceeded to the home of Christina Wales, the first girl to disappear. 

We searched each girl's house. The stakeouts were watching each house in case our perpetrator returned to the scene of the crime, a common thing for serial offenders. Most repeat offenders liked to watch their adversaries and know what they were doing. They also liked to relive their crimes. 

I didn't say so to Jamie, but I didn't hold out much hope that these girls were alive. It had been so long. But hope springs eternal. And as long as they were missing, and there were no bodies, we had to believe that we were going to find them. 

Mulder said he didn't know why but he suspected that the girls were still alive. He had one of his 'feelings'. I'd learned over the years not to ignore them. It made me want to solve this case even more if there was a chance that they could still be alive. 

The one house and four apartments did not yield much in the way of evidence missed. However, at each scene we found the long, soft hairs on the carpets and in the bathroom sinks. Very strange. The lab told us it was human but it looked like animal hair. 

* * *

**JAMIE LEVEAU'S APARTMENT**  
**RICHMOND, VA**  
Early Evening 

As we so often do when things don't make sense, we sat down to brainstorm in J's living room. Come to find out, Jamie had quite the storehouse of knowledge about folklore and such. No wonder he and Mulder got along. 

I returned from the kitchen with my glass of ice tea I'd gone to get and heard Mulder and Jamie going head to head in a discussion about Werewolves. I rolled my eyes and sat down in a chair next to the one Daryl was sitting on and smiled at him. He shook his head in amusement. 

Jamie said "Wer is an old English term for Man. Lycanthropy is the delusion that you are half wolf and part man. Delusion being the operative word here," he stressed. 

Mulder grinned. "I heard once that rye bread of the poor contaminated with the fungus ergot caused hallucinations and delusions about Werewolves in the Middle Ages." 

He glanced at me quickly and realized I had caught his reference to Ergot, the hallucinagen that I had contracted when I got my tattoo. The artist had used a red ink made from rye grasses. It had effected Ed Jerse a lot more than me, thank God, but he'd been psychotic so I guess that made sense. I nodded, 

"Yeah, that's a nasty fungus," was the only comment I could make, trying to let him know I wasn't upset. Those memories were dead and gone. I had Mulder now and I refused to let bad memories from the past intrude on our new relationship. 

He smiled and J continued. "Fox, in 1500's Europe the legend grew because of the strong wolf presence in the country side. They were suspicious people and they ascribed all sorts of demonic qualities to wolves because of their yellow, glowing eyes and their sharp teeth." 

"Yes, but there have been documented cases," Mulder argued. In 1580's, a German man, Peter Stubb confessed to being a Werewolf." 

"Only because of severe torture and interrogation. He said a magical belt of wolf skin allowed him to make the transformation." He made a face at Mulder, indicating how ridiculous that was. I laughed, enjoying watching someone besides myself shoot down Mulder's theories. 

J continued. "Jean Grenier in 1603, southwest France said he got a magic ointment from the _Master of the Forest_. That was the earliest documented case of Lycanthropy. He was judged as being a victim of demonic possession, an equally delusional paranoia of the time, and was imprisoned in a monastery. All he really was, in my opinion, was a mentally unstable youth. All those stories are hogwash, buddy. Sorry." 

He didn't look sorry. 

Mulder sighed and I grinned. "I've heard all the stories. I know that people who suffer from Lycanthropy have schizophrenia, hysterical neurosis, manic/depressive psychosis and poly motor epilepsy. But what if they really did exist? I've seen more things that were thought to be legends or folk lore turn out to be real." 

J sighed. "Fox, most folk lore is based in reality somewhere. You know that, but we are dealing with people who were ignorant of all medical knowledge. They subscribed everything to God, Demons or the Devil. Another theory, the one I actually subscribe to the most is Rabies." 

"Rabies?" I asked. 

"Yeah, we can inoculate against it today. But back then, what would the symptoms have been, say, if someone were bitten by a rabid wolf." 

I nodded my head. "They would foam at the mouth, growl and snarl at people. You're right! There's also Porphyria. That's a genetic disorder that attacks the red blood cells. You develop photosensitivity, skin discoloration, body hair growth and abnormal skin changes and ... psychosis. That would fit perfectly as well." 

"I can't win," Mulder said, throwing his hands up in the air. "Two against one, no fair!" 

Daryl shook his head, "I am so far out of my league with you three, I can't even tell you!" 

We all smiled at him. J said, "Just different backgrounds, that's all." 

J continued, "There's also quite a few hallucinogenic plants. Traditional folklore said that you were a Werewolf if your eyebrows meet in the middle of your face. If you have long, claw like fingernails, small, flat or pointy ears or an exceptionally long third finger. It was all superstition. How many people do you know with all those characteristics?" he mused. 

Daryl injected wryly, "I think my Lieutenant is a Werewolf." 

We all laughed again. It seemed almost sacrilegious to be laughing under the circumstances, but it felt good too. We never socialized and this was turning out to be a real fun evening. But we needed to get back to the purpose for this discussion. 

I looked at Mulder. "We have no evidence that we are even dealing with a person here," I argued, long into the discussion. 

They all looked at me, waiting for me to elaborate. "What do we really have? We have some gooey stuff that the lab says is saliva. But that's a LOT of saliva. We have a couple of claw marks on the door jamb of one house that don't match anything we know of. Six scratch marks. We have long fine hairs, what's called Vellus hair. That's usually short, like what grows on the arm." 

I held out my arm and brushed the soft white hair up off my arm. "But that's the weird part. That hair is never eight to 10 centimeters long, not on humans anyway. But we could be dealing with an animal of some kind, regardless of the lab results. I'm going to order the tests done again, just to be sure. Nothing about this case makes sense. It's driving me crazy." 

"An intelligent animal, Scully?" he asked, sounding amused that I would put forth such an idea. "One that can distinguish girls from a certain place of employment? And make phone calls?" 

"We don't know if these girls are the only ones missing. Maybe he/she/it lives nearby the service." I shrugged, just thinking out loud. 

"Hair on your head is that long," J said, steering us back to the original topic. 

"Yes, but that's Terminal Hair." 

Daryl laughed, "Terminal Hair?" 

"Yes, it's coarser and thicker. Androgens in the body turn Vellus hair into Terminal hair." 

"Androgens?" Mulder asked. 

"Male hormones, such as testosterone. As the body matures, it changes the hair on the head, legs and the pubic area to Terminal hair. Once it's Terminal, it can never be changed back to Vellus hair, even if the androgens are taken away and estrogen is introduced to the system. Women who have Hirsuitism ..." 

"Hirsutism?" Jamie asked. 

"Yes, a condition of excessive hairiness and male pattern hair growth on women. Like when a woman has a mustache. Certain medications can cause it. Sometimes it's genetic. A new drug called Finasteride inhibits the transformation of androgens to dihydrotestosterone, an active metabolite. 

"A female mustache or male pattern hair growth on women exhibits Vellus hair. But Estrogen and other female hormones can relief the condition. Birth control pills are often used as treatment. They decrease the production of the hormones LH and FSH that the liver produces and produce a sex hormone binding globulin. That's a protein that traps androgens, making them less effective." 

"Whew, " Daryl whistled. "Where did you learn all this?" 

"Medical school," I said. 

"You're a doctor?" 

J laughed, "You didn't get that from when she said dead bodies were her specialty?" he asked, making a face again. 

Daryl smiled. "I was ... preoccupied at the time." 

We all smiled at him. I said, "I'm a medical doctor with a background in pathology. I do autopsies mostly." 

"Guess somebody's got to do it," he replied flatly, making a face. 

"So this is getting us nowhere," Mulder said, sounding exasperated. 

"The hair thing is the key. I'm sure of it." I said. "We're missing something big here." 

Mulder looked at me. "What are you thinking?" 

"We need to find out where that hair came from. They said it's human, and I believe them. Some of them that went to the lab were cut off. I'm wondering if we aren't dealing with a human and an animal, working together." 

"Cut off?" he asked. 

"Yeah, like they had been shaved. Others were completely intact with the follicle still attached to the end as though they'd been ... shed." 

"Shed," he stated flatly, waiting for further explanation, but looking excited. 

I grinned internally at the look of enthusiasm on his face. He always got unreasonably happy when I put forth a theory that wasn't completely scientific. 

"Yes, I think that whatever it is that was in those apartments was either not wearing clothes or had taken them off. If it wasn't wearing clothes, then it's an animal. If it was, it's human." 

J offered, "Maybe someone is working with a well trained dog?" 

"And he shed his hair while he was there," Mulder said, ignoring J's comment. 

"He ... or It," said. 

"Are you telling me that you think this is not a human being, Scully?" 

"I don't know. None of the evidence fits. It's driving me crazy." 

Jamie suddenly, "Wait a minute!" 

"What?" we all chorused in unison. 

"Werewolf Syndrome!" 

Daryl said, "Yeah, Lycanthropy, we've already talked about that." 

"No, no!" he said excitedly. "There's a disease called Werewolf Syndrome. Where the hell did I read about it?" 

It was like somebody flipped a switch in my head. I'd never seen a case of it, but I remembered pictures in textbooks on rare diseases. "Oh my God, you're right!" 

* * *

* * *

**PART 7 (PG-13)**  
**JAMIE LEVEAU'S APARTMENT**  
**RICHMOND, VA**

They all looked at me. "Congenital Generalized Hypertrichosis!" 

A chorus of "Huh?" came from all three men. 

I was excited now. "Hypertrichosis, it's different from Hirsutism. There is excessive growth of hair, but it's not male pattern hair growth, it's all over the face, neck and trunk and it's ... Vellus hair! Or what they call Lanugo hairs! That type is called Hypertrichosis Languinosa. Do you have a computer?" 

"Yeah," J replied. He went to the closet and pulled out a laptop, plugged it in and booted it up. While I waited for the computer to do a search of the web on the disease I said, "It's very, very rare. I remember seeing pictures. Incredible. People could easily be mistaken for animals." 

The Google search engine didn't let me down and came up with over a 100 sites on the subject. I scrolled down looking for key words like research and an actual doctor's name that would add validity to the information on that site. I finally chose one and brought it up. The three men stood over my shoulder and read with me as I scrolled down the site. Mulder's breath was coming in excited little pants. Jamie gasped and Daryl just said, "Well, I'll be damned." 

The page we were viewing showed a picture of a six year old boy with this condition. His entire face and neck was covered with hair. Only his eyes, nostrils and mouth seemed unaffected. 

"Holy shit, Scully," Mulder mumbled. "What if someone like this grew to be a man?" 

They all looked at me. Daryl asked, "Wouldn't he be treated for something like this?" 

"If his family knew about treatment or could afford it. I don't imagine it's cheap to treat something like this. Let's say this family lives in the mountains or something and they shunned or disowned the boy." 

"And he survives somehow," Mulder ran with my idea. 

I nodded my head. "He couldn't go in public like this except in a freak show. He'd have to hide out somewhere away from the public eye. Says here the few cases of this years ago landed these people in circuses as dog men and such." 

"But his sex drive would inevitably kick in," Mulder concluded. 

I smirked, "You have a one track mind, Mulder." 

He shrugged, unrepentant. 

Jamie and Daryl backed away from the computer while Mulder pulled up a chair. 

"Maybe, but part of this disease CAN include stunted genetalia as well as congenital dental defects." 

"What kind of dental defects?" Mulder asked. 

I scrolled down, reading out loud, "Says here, Osteochondrodysplasia, Cone-Rod Amaursis, Facial dysmorphia, Pigmentary retinopathy ..." I trailed off. 

Mulder made a face. "In English please?" 

Daryl and J laughed from their position several feet away. "Here it is," I said, finding what I was looking for. "Widely spaced, pointed teeth. Eureka!" I shouted. 

"That would certainly complete the picture." 

I sat back in my chair. "This is all purely speculation, Mulder. I hate to burst your bubble." 

"But it's the only viable theory we've come up with so far. I say we run with it and maybe we'll turn up something else. But right now, we need somewhere to start." 

"You're right." I turned to Daryl. "Could you call Detective Mulharen and get his e-mail address for me. I need to send this stuff to him and have him print it out. Then I'm going down there and finding out how to go about searching every hospital's database near and around Richmond for any cases of Hypertrichosis in the last fifty years." 

"Fifty years?" 

"This person, if he exists, was born somewhere. And we have no clue how old he is at this point." 

"Maybe in the mountains," J said. "The Appalachians aren't far from here, and there are quite a few Census escapees up there." 

I chuckled, "I know, but like Mulder said, it's the only idea we have right now. It's a long shot." I turned to Mulder, "A really, really long shot, Mulder," I warned. 

He nodded. "I know, but it's a place to start. I need to feel like I'm doing something." 

I took his hand in mine, lacing our fingers together and nodded, smiling at him. It was great to find out that our roll in the hay didn't seem to effect our ability to bounce ideas off one another and work together. We still hadn't really been in the field together. We'd have to see how that went. I was determined to make it work. 

Daryl was already on the phone, scribbling down the e-mail address on a scratch pad. He handed the paper to Jamie who walked it over to me with a bow and a flourish. I whispered to him when he bent down, crooking my finger for him to bend closer. He did and I asked, "Why does he call you, Jam?" 

J grinned. "Says I'm sweeter than jelly," he whispered back. 

Mulder and I both roared with laughter watching as J stood up, blushed and turned away. I turned back to the computer, still chuckling and scrolled down some more, But it revealed nothing more of interest. I picked another site and started reading. I was talking out loud and said, "Says here that other possible symptoms of this disease are supernumerary nipples, hexadactylism, and scoliosis. Oh! And polydactyly! 

"What's that?" Mulder asked. 

"More than the number of normal toes or fingers." 

"Yuck." 

"Yeah, they can often remove them though." 

"Scully, that might explain the weird claw marks on the door jamb." 

"Yeah, there were six distinct marks. Most animals have three, four or sometimes five fingers or toes, but not six." 

"Except for a seven toed cat I saw one time." 

I smiled at him. "This is interesting." 

"What?" 

"Says here that this is a genetic atavistic trait. This doctor says that he believes it is the reappearance of an ancestral phenotype." 

"In English, please," Daryl requested, now off the phone. 

I smiled. "It's the theory by some scientists that genetic development information originally used was not lost during evolution, but lies quiescent or dormant in the gnome and embryonic development. But it's still there." 

"O.K.," Daryl replied. "We've gotten it down to Greek. Can we try for English again?" 

Mulder laughed. "It means that the human DNA and gnomes retain the blueprint of our evolution. For instance, that the tailbone is the residual evidence of man once having a tail like primates." 

"Oh, I get it. How did you know this?" 

J said, "He's a doctor too." 

Daryl sighed. 

Mulder said, "Of psychology, but all doctors get the same first four years of school which includes basic understanding of human anatomy, physiology and development." 

Daryl nodded, obviously a little overwhelmed. 

Mulder continued, "Let's put it this way. If we did evolve from apes, we would still retain the genetic blueprint for having hair all over our bodies, and any other characteristics that we no longer display any evidence of. Outwardly, at least." 

I added, "The genes of primates have undergone structural or regulatory changes during evolution in humans so that hair growth is controlled only by the sex related hormones. Not so in primates." 

"And this means?" J asked. 

"A freak of nature, a one in a million chance that the evolutionary regulation of hair growth is not engaged in an individual. Then you have the earlier evolutionary characteristic emerge in that person." 

Daryl said, "Would that be like high foreheads on Cro-Magnon man? I know some people like that." 

We chuckled. 

"You said genetic," J said. 

I nodded. "Says here that the genome has been traced to the X chromosome." 

"Meaning?" J asked. 

"Meaning that a woman could pass this on to all of her offspring. A male would most likely only pass it to his sons. It is a defect or a lack of evolutionary mutation that is passed down." 

"Interesting," J said. 

"But not really helpful in this case," I added. 

"It could be if this person's family is still alive," Mulder surmised. 

"If they are, they wouldn't be walking around K-Mart either," Daryl joked. 

I laughed. "They wouldn't necessarily display the symptoms, although, they could have a lesser form of it." 

* * *

**DR. RICHARD COLE'S HOUSE**  
**AIKEN, SC**

Our search of hospital records turned up one documented case of Congenital Generalized Hypertrichosis. The infant was born in 1952, which would make him 48 years old. As with one of the only two _families_ ever found to have this disease, the child was Mexican. The other family was Burmese. He had been born with four inches of soft, gray hair all over his head neck and back, and chest. All his mucus membranes were spared as were the soles of his feet and the palms of his hands. 

They had grainy 1952 pictures of the infant and my heart broke as I looked at them. This poor child! Of course, in these pictures, he had no teeth yet, but the sparing of his palms and soles made the child look very much like a baby ape. No one who still worked at that hospital had been there at that time, of course. But one doctor who worked on the team was retired, but still alive. 

We wasted no time in locating him. He lived in Aiken, South Carolina on a small street called Pine Bluff Way. We flew out, renting a car and driving there from the directions he'd given us over the phone when we called to say we were coming by. We pulled up to the single, story, brick home. It was modest with a short paved driveway and a manicured lawn. 

He opened the door to our knock and we flashed our I.D.'s. "Agents Mulder and Scully," I announced. "We phoned earlier." 

"Yes, come in," he said, opening the screen door. I looked down at Scully and guided her in with my hand on the small of her back. I thought I felt her shiver but it was probably my imagination. 

He directed us to a antique sofa and we sat gingerly as he offered us a drink. He returned with two glasses of lemonade and sat down in a large, wing backed chair. 

His hair was completely white. But the 75 year old doctor held himself erect and showed no sign of feebleness. He started by saying, "You're hear about the Ape Baby." 

Scully winced, hearing him referred to that way. "Yes," I said. 

He nodded. "I was 26 years old then. I thought I knew everything and I thought I'd seen everything. The arrogance of youth, eh?" 

I had no interest in his nostalgic musings, but I sensed that he wouldn't be pushed. We would have to endure whatever miscellaneous information he wished to tack onto this discussion. 

"Who delivered the baby?" I asked. 

"Dr. Colin Russell. He's dead now, God rest his soul. He was the most compassionate man I ever met. I tried very hard to emulate him. He was my mentor." 

I nodded. "Sounds like a wonderful man. The woman was Mexican, we understand." 

"Yes, very odd. Back then you didn't see many Mexican folks around here. Today the world is a much bigger place, Dr. Scully," he replied, acknowledging that he'd been told she was a fellow doctor. 

"You're right of course," she said. 

He nodded. "We didn't have any women doctors back then either," he said, smiling. 

Scully smiled back. "There were some." 

"Not around here, there weren't," he clarified. "Mrs. Carmella Garcia stumbled into the Emergency Room. I was the Resident in Charge that day. Her water had broken and she had obviously walked there and was in terrible distress. I got her situated on a gurney and started an I.V. I did the initial examination." 

"Was there anything unusual about the woman?" 

"Yes, she was very Hirsute." 

"Ahh," Scully said. 

He continued. "But not like the child. She had a marked black mustache above her upper lip. This isn't unusual. You see it in a lot of Italian women as well. But she did have what I thought was an unusual amount of hair on her upper thighs. I dismissed it because I figured it only seemed that way because the hair was dark, unlike most woman, whose leg hair is blonde or light brown. Remember, I was young and dumb and I hadn't seen nearly as much as I thought I had." 

I chuckled and so did Scully, trying to humor him but both impatient to get to the point. "So what happened? How did Dr. Russell become involved?" 

"I called him. He wasn't due in till the morning. This was about 3:00 AM if I remember correctly. I was still working the graveyard shifts. He was due at 7:00 AM. I'd never delivered a baby and I was admittedly unsure of myself." 

Scully nodded and asked, "What made you nervous about it?" 

He grinned. "Well, young lady, I'd never done it before as I said and I wanted a backup. Not to mention the fact that I think that I'd been with exactly two women at that point in my life. Sad to say," he added. 

I chuckled. "Afraid to look?" I joked. 

He laughed good naturedly. "Not really, but afraid of doing something wrong. The textbooks don't really give you a feel for the actual experience. That's true of everything in medicine, wouldn't you agree, Dr. Scully?" 

"No truer words," she replied. "Why didn't you just call one of the other doctors in the hospital, an OB/GYN?" 

"Believe or not, back then we didn't have one on staff. And if we had, he would have been unique and would have been special enough to work the day shift. I called Dr. Russell because he was the first person I always thought of when I needed help. He was incredibly reassuring and encouraging to me. He made me believe I could do anything." 

Scully nodded. "Go on." 

"So he came in and we wheeled her into the operating room. We didn't have all these fancy birthing rooms and such back then. We gave her a mild pain killer and went to work. Dr. Russell delivered the baby and I coached her through her pushing like I'd learned and was in awe of the entire process. She spoke broken English but she kept saying thank you in between contractions. I think she was afraid that we would turn her away because she was Mexican." 

I asked, "Was racial prejudice a problem at that time? I mean, I know it was in general. But was it in that hospital?" 

"No, I don't think so. I mean, Dr. Russell was one of those rare individuals who refused to be swayed by the opinions of society or his peers. He taught me that the Hippocratic Oath applied to every living thing on this planet, not just whom I thought should be helped. It wasn't up to me, he said. I had taken a vow and to refuse to treat someone in need, regardless of their affliction, race, creed, whatever, was a gross violation of ethics and made me unworthy of being a healer. He said that God decided who should cross my path. If that person was there, God wanted me to learn something and I should always pay attention." 

Scully cleared her throat, seeming almost choked up by his little speech. I wasn't sure if it was for our benefit or not. She said, "Not many doctors like that around any more. Most are in it for the money nowadays." 

He nodded, "What about you, young lady?" 

I watched her flinch slightly. She didn't like being referred to as 'young lady.' Somehow, although he didn't mean for it to be, I'm sure, it sounded slightly condescending. Despite his assurances to the contrary, I sensed that he was an old southern gentleman who had his opinions and his prejudices, but had learned to hide them. The type of man that hid them unless one of those prejudices threatened to infiltrate his family. 

Scully said, "Well, I did a Residency like everyone else. And I agree with you. I had that attitude at that time. I thought I was going to save the world." 

He laughed good-naturedly. "Didn't we all?" he asked. 

She smiled again. "Then I went into forensics and pathology." 

He grimaced. "God bless you, that's work I don't know if I could have done." 

"Dead people can give you a lot of answers too." 

"You don't feel it's a desecration of the body to do autopsies?" 

She looked stunned. "No, do you?" 

"Not really. But because of my religious beliefs, I would have found it difficult, if not impossible to do that kind of work." 

Scully nodded. "It's not for everyone. But I do it because I feel that person deserves to have their case solved. The family, the ones still living are the ones that I concentrate on and concern myself with. They deserve to know what happened to their loved one and they deserve the closure of having someone pay for the crime that killed their loved one." 

"You're right, Dr. Scully. It's just not for me." 

"I understand. But getting back to the point," Scully urged, growing more impatient. "Tell us about the baby." 

"Well, as soon as his head crowned, I helped her to bear down and as the head emerged, I heard Dr. Russell gasp and immediately knew something was wrong. I asked him, 'What is it?' and he said, 'Nothing, just one more push.'" 

He paused, closing his eyes as though trying to remember and picture the scene in his head. "He hollered to a nurse as soon as the baby was born and the cord was cut. I was at her head and didn't see it at first, but when he lifted it to place it in the towel the nurse was holding, I gasped as well. I couldn't help it. The thing was still wet and slimy but I could see the hair, a sooty, light gray all over it's body." 

"The thing?" Scully said, sounding disgusted with his choice of words. 

He met her eyes unashamed and said, "Bad choice of words. But I won't lie to you. It didn't look human. And I was shocked." 

She nodded. "Sorry, I don't mean to be ... righteous. I just feel sorry for any child born with a genetic disorder or condition. It's hard enough to be normal child." 

"I agree with you. We examined him carefully. His mother, Mrs. Garcia was extremely distraught when we didn't bring him back to her right away." 

"Understandable," Scully replied. 

"But we wanted to take pictures and blood tests and take snips of the hair to examine. It was an anomaly none of us had ever seen. Although select doctors in the world had seen and studied this condition. None of us there had ever heard of it at the time. Later, we found out just how rare it was." 

"And you returned the child to Mrs. Garcia? Then what?" 

He made a face. "She shunned it," he said quietly. 

"What?" Scully asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

He met her gaze again a look of profound sadness on his face. "I remember it like it was yesterday. I tried to prepare her. I said that her baby was special and we were going to examine it to try and understand." He licked his lips. "I couldn't lie to her, what would be the point?" 

Scully waved her hand for him to go on. 

"I carried it ... the baby," he corrected, "in to her and said, 'He's got an unusual amount of body hair, but we could probably shave it off." 

"And?" I prompted. 

"At first, she reached for him, untroubled. I don't think she realized what I was saying. She expected hair, but that child looked like an animal. And I don't say that to be cruel. It's just the facts. She pulled back the blanket I'd wrapped him in and covered his face with. He was crying. And when she removed that blanket from his face ... she screamed. It was awful. She was absolutely horrified." 

"And you weren't?" Scully asked. 

"No, I was too intrigued to be horrified. To be honest, I wasn't thinking about the child in emotional terms. I was, and am, a doctor. My first reaction was to be fascinated with the condition. It lit a fire in me to investigate it. I wanted to find out what this was all about. I must confess, I did have one extremely dastardly thought at the time." 

"What was that?" I asked. 

He looked at his lap. "I knew how ridiculous it was right after it crossed my mind, and I was disgusted with myself for thinking it in the first place." 

"What did you think?" I asked again. 

He looked up at me tentatively, obviously embarrassed. "I thought she may have mated with some type of animal, like a ... dog or an ape." 

Scully made a face. "That would be impossible!" 

He looked at her. "Would it? Bestiality wasn't unheard of, even then." 

He was referring the practice of having sex with animals and it wasn't as unheard of as most people think. There was a joke about parts of the wilderness that people would reference by saying, 'Where the men are men and the sheep are nervous.' But that wasn't what she was saying, I didn't think." 

I clarified, looking at Scully, "I think you mean that the sperm of one species wouldn't germinate with the egg of another, don't you?" 

She nodded, making a face. "Yes. The idea of it makes me nauseous, but that's what I meant. I know Bestiality exists, as abhorrent as it is to me. But even if that were the case, an animal couldn't impregnate a human." 

Dr. Cole nodded. "We know that, NOW," he emphasized. "And although we believed that THEN, we didn't know for sure. We all believed in Darwin's theory of evolution, man descended from Apes. It wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility. It was strange. We believed in Darwin and in God, seems contradictory but it wasn't. We believed God had directed evolution and made man into what he was today through that process. Medicine has come a long way in the last forty years. Don't forget, there was still a lot of unknowns out there then." 

Scully smiled a cryptic smiled, showing no teeth. "There still are, Dr. Cole," she replied. 

I grinned at her, knowing she was referring to all that we had seen. "I'm sure," he replied. "Anyway, she told me to take it away, she didn't want it. I didn't know what to do. So I took it back to the nursery. She wouldn't breastfeed it. We made up a bottle and fed it ourselves. She was released several days later against our medical advice. She wasn't completely healed. Said she was going back to Mexico to kill the son-of-a-bitch that had given her a demon for a baby." 

"Oh Jesus," Scully said. 

"Yeah, it was terrible. Back then we didn't do drive through births like we do now." 

Scully laughed, "Drive through births?" 

"Yeah, women in and out of the hospital in two days? It's ridiculous! I don't care how advanced medicine is. Childbirth is a physically taxing and a trauma to the body. Two days is not enough time to recover. Back then doctors decided how to treat their patients. Nowadays, the insurance companies decide." 

Scully nodded in agreement. "Yes, it's not a pretty picture." 

He said, "HMO's have turned this country's medical system into the nearest thing to Nationalized medicine there is. You can't pick your doctor anymore, so what's the point? Doctors have no incentive to strive to be the best they can be. They are going to have patients no matter what. They don't have to be good to encourage people to come to them. And that's the way I think it should be. Now it's like anybody can be a doctor if they have the brains to pass the tests. They don't have to have one scrap of bedside manner. They don't have to display compassion for their patients or anything. And if they screw up, their medical malpractice insurance will handle it, pay the person off and they go on being a lousy doctor." 

He huffed, shaking his head and said, "Sorry, didn't mean to go off on a rant there." 

Scully smiled. "That's all right. I agree with you one hundred percent. That is an advantage of pathology. Your patients don't care about your bedside manner." 

We all laughed then at her little joke. I tried to steer us back on track again. "So what happened to the baby?" 

"Dr. Russell called every church, nunnery and monastery he could find, trying to find someone to take the poor child in. It took weeks. Finally, a cloistered group of nuns in Tennessee agreed to take him in. We ran all the tests we could and took as many photos as we could before he left. Then about a week later, a nun showed up at the hospital, introducing herself as Sister Mary Margaret. She filled out adoption papers with the State. The baby was officially an orphan." 

"She wasn't appalled by the child?" I asked. 

He shook his head. "It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. She cradled that child and smiled at him and said they would baptize him and raise him." 

"I asked if she would consider returning him for medical treatment, perhaps trying some treatments to remove the hair. Electrolysis wasn't around then but we knew about estrogen and that hair growth was governed by male sex hormones." 

"And her reaction?" Scully asked. 

"She refused. She said he was one of God's creatures and was born this way for a reason, even if we didn't know what that reason was. She believed he was special and God would love him no matter what ... and so would she." 

He finished, his eyes wet from the memory. "You alright?" Scully asked, tearing up herself. 

"Yes," he said quietly. "She was the most amazingly serene and loving woman I ever met. In five minutes she restored my belief in my faith, and that there were still good ... no, still great people in the world." 

I asked, "What then?" 

He shook his head. "We never saw him again. The nuns would send Dr. Russell letters periodically telling of his progress. They raised him, taught him the bible and schooled him. After about ten years the letters stopped, Dr. Russell retired and it was forgotten." He paused. "Not by me though. I've never forgotten. I've often wondered what happened to him. I've thought a million times of going to that cloister to visit, just to see what had happened as he grew." 

"Why didn't you?" Scully asked. 

He looked at his lap. "I don't know. Maybe because I was afraid that if it was interesting enough, I would have to pursue it and I didn't want to have something consume my life. My work was bad enough. I was married by then and my wife complained about my time at the hospital as it was. I didn't need another obsession." 

"And it would have become an obsession, you think?" 

"Yes, I think so. I've never been so fascinated by anything before or since. I've read every study and article on the disorder I could find since then. I still keep up on the research in that area, purely from an intrigue point of view." 

"Do you know what they named him?" I asked. 

He smiled an ironic smile, "Nazereth." 

We both smiled. "That is weird." 

"Jesus of Nazareth," Scully said quietly. "They really did think he was special, huh?" 

"Dr. Russell showed me some of the letters. Sister Mary Margaret just loved him because she had a pure heart and soul. But she mentioned that some of the other nuns believed that God had sent them this child to test their faith. They thought he was a messenger from God, hence the name that was chosen." 

"Test their faith?" Scully asked. 

"Yes, to test whether they could open their hearts to any of God's creatures, no matter how physically infirm. If I remember correctly, they thought that their total acceptance of this boy for what and who he was would confirm their faith in God." 

"Interesting," I said, wondering how people came to such conclusions. It was so easy to twist reality to your liking. I was glad the boy found a home, but frankly, I thought it was nonsense that he was a test from God. Faith was Scully's department. I had faith in the truth. The truth will set you free. It certainly had set me free where Scully was concerned. 

I tamped down the inappropriate thought of cutting this short and rushing her to the nearest hotel to bang her brains out! I cleared my throat. I looked at Scully, "Well for once, I'm subscribing to the science end of this story rather than the beliefs of these nuns." 

Scully smiled at me. "You, Mulder? Sticking with the science? That's not like you at all," she teased. 

The doctor smiled at us, not sure what we were going on about but sensing that Scully was teasing me. 

He interrupted. "Well, that's the end of the story, for me anyway. Now, I would appreciate you telling me what your interest is in the boy. Well, he wouldn't be a boy anymore would he?" 

Scully answered, "No, if he's still alive, he would be 49 years old." 

"And you think he committed a crime?" 

"I don't know," she said. "It's the only lead we have so far in a case concerning missing girls. All the girls were snatched from their homes and disappeared." 

"Snatched? They couldn't have just moved somewhere?" 

"No one's heard from them, even their families. They all worked for the same place, a 1-900 service in Richmond." 

He grinned, but then it faded. "What's the connection to the boy?" 

"We found long baby fine hairs at each of the girls homes. They are Vellus hair, blonde and light brown, but eight to ten centimeters long." 

"Ahh," he said, pressing his lips together. "Not too many people running around with hair that long, not Vellus hair anyway. His hair was definitely gray, but I suppose it could have changed color as he grew." 

Scully apparently figured he would know what she meant by Vellus hair if he had studied the research on the subject. I hadn't known what it was until yesterday. Scully stood, finishing off her lemonade. "Well, thank you, doctor. You've been very helpful. We appreciate you taking the time to see us." 

"No problem," he answered. He stood along with me and stuck out his hand. Scully shook it and then I did. 

"One more question," I asked. 

"What's that?" 

"You wouldn't happen to know the name or address of that cloister would you?" 

"It wasn't in the hospital records?" he asked. 

"No," Scully replied. "Just said he'd been given to a good home." 

"Dr. Russell must not have wanted curiosity-seekers searching him out and harassing him. I have it written down somewhere. It was called The Mary Magdelen Convent. I don't remember the address though." 

He walked to his desk on the other side of the room and pulled out an old rolodex from the bottom of a drawer and set it next to the new one that graced the top of the desk. He flipped through the yellowed, old cards and stopped, tapping one with his finger. "Here it is." 

He scribbled the address on a slip of paper and held it out to me. I looked at it and nodded. "Thank you, doctor. You've been really helpful." 

"This doesn't mean that he committed the crime for sure, does it?" he asked. 

Scully shook her head. "No, but it's the only lead we have right now and we have to follow up." 

He nodded. "I hope it isn't true." 

"Me too," Scully said. "Me too." 

"If you should find him ... I would very much appreciate a chance to see him again, if only to observe." 

Scully nodded. "We'll see what happens. We may not even find him." 

* * *

* * *

**PART 8 (NC-17)**  
**KINGSPORT, TN**

We were on a plane later that afternoon and landed at the Tri-Cities Regional Airport. We rented a car and drove to Kingsport, finding a motel at 9:00 PM that night and checking in. I realized we were just southwest of Arcadia. I had enjoyed playing house with Scully on that case. 

We rented two rooms and once we were ready for bed, Mulder came into my room dressed only in boxers. He flopped down on the bed. I rolled over into his side gave him a languid kiss. "Hmmm," he hummed. 

We broke the kiss and I laid my head on his shoulder. He sighed and I asked, "What are you thinking about, Mulder?" I asked, knowing he wanted to talk about this case. 

"Besides jumping your bones?" he quipped, but his heart wasn't in the joke. 

"Besides that," I encouraged. 

"I don't know. We don't even know if this guy is still alive." 

"Being in that cloister, there's no school records or anything," I confirmed. "No medical records. If they exist, they're inside that cloister." 

He nodded. "It just seems like such a cruel fate." 

"Hypertrichosis?" 

"Yeah, I mean, if God does exist, why does he do things like that?" 

"I don't think he does." 

"Explain that." 

"I think man creates a lot of their own trouble. I think God created us and we are all his children. But he also gave us free will and an intellect. As far as our intellect goes, we need to use it make choices and we don't always make the good choices." 

"Like not having children when we have a hereditary birth defect." 

"Well, yes. Hypertrichosis isn't a birth defect per se, it's a atavistic condition, but the theory is the same. It's a social handicap, if not a physical one. That women was obviously uneducated, never found out about her own condition and unwittingly passed it down to her son. Then, being superstitious and ignorant, she blamed the devil for her abhorrent son." 

"Rather than blaming herself and the fact that she never had her condition treated and found out that it could be passed down." 

"Yes. Not that she would have had any treatment to find in those days. It's a rare, rare condition. I mean, on the other side of the ledger, God gave us free will." 

"And what are we supposed to do with that?" 

"You mean how do we demonstrate faith in the face of free will." 

"Yeah, explain that to me. I've never understood that. If things are preordained, what's the point of having free will. It's contradictory." 

"It seems that way. But that's one of the paradoxes of faith. The demonstration of faith comes when you willingly turn your life and that free will over to God." 

"What?" 

"You have free will and you choose to turn your will and your life over the care of God. It demonstrates your faith and in return, he takes care of you and gives you what you need." 

"How so?" 

"He puts people in your life that give you what you need, or tell you what you need to hear. You may not always get what you want, but you always get what you need. You only get what you want if it's God's will for you." 

"And if it isn't God's will for you?" 

"Then you don't get it and it's probably not a good thing anyway, no matter how much you want it." 

"Do you think it's God's will that we found each other?" 

"Absolutely, Mulder! I think I was meant to be with you, this way, in every way." 

He smiled at that, liking the sound of it. "That's comforting." 

"Yes, it is. But how do we know what God's will is for us?" 

I sighed. "It's hard to explain, but you don't always know. The trick is to do the next right thing. You need to do the footwork to help yourself, the best you know how with the information you have. God does the rest. If you are meeting incredible resistance, you need to look in your heart and figure out if you are fighting for all the wrong reasons. When you are on the right path, things seem to go easier." 

"Are you referring to the tenet that God will do for us what we can't do for ourselves?" 

"Yes." 

"Then what's the point of doing anything? We just kick back, have faith, and God provides? I don't buy that." 

I chuckled. "No, you're misunderstanding that belief, Mulder." 

"What else is new, Scully?" 

I smiled again, kissing his nipple gently and he gasped. "It doesn't say that God will do for you what you CAN do for yourself." 

"Ahhh," he said, like he'd had a revelation. 

"That's where doing the footwork and doing the next right thing comes in. They also say that God helps those who help themselves. It doesn't say he helps those that kick back and do nothing, waiting for life to fall into their laps." 

"This gets confusing." 

"It can be. But I like to keep it simple." 

"And how do you do that?" 

"I have two basic beliefs that have gotten me through thick and thin. These beliefs have sustained me when I thought I couldn't go on, when I thought I'd lost you, when my world was upside down." 

"What are those beliefs, Scully?" he asked quietly, looking down at me and shifting to get a better look at my face. 

I turned my face up to meet his gaze. "That everything happens for a reason. Like that nun believed, I don't necessarily know what that reason is. I might find out six months or a year from now. But there is a reason. I need to have faith," I said, smiling at him again as he gave me the 'oh, no, that again' look. 

"And the second belief?" 

"That everything works out the way it's supposed to whether I get involved or not. My purpose is to do the best I can and then step back and let God take care of the outcome. If I resist the outcome, I just create pain for myself." 

"I've created a lot of pain for myself," he said sadly. 

I squeezed him. "Look at me," I said. 

He turned onto his side and rubbed my arm with his fingers, sliding the silk of my pajama top over my sensitive skin. I shivered and put my hands on his chest. "What outcomes have you resisted, Mulder?" I asked softly. 

He smiled at me. "Being with you, loving you. I knew it was inevitable, but it scared me so much. I was afraid to love you, Scully. I didn't WANT to love you, not at first." 

"I know what you mean." 

"I didn't think I deserved you as a friend and partner, let alone as a girlfriend or lover. I still believe that." 

"Stop it! You deserve happiness, Mulder, as much as the next person. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm the one that doesn't deserve you?" 

"No. Never," he said firmly. 

I chuckled, darting my tongue out to lick his chest. He grunted and smiled down at me. "Well, I'm not the most open person in the world, Mulder. I can appear cold and aloof. I've given you nothing but grief since I joined up with you. And yet, you still fell in love with me. That amazes me still." 

"You're amazing, Scully. I never thought you were cold and aloof." 

"I know. That's the amazing part." 

He smiled and tipped my chin up. He lowered his mouth to cover mine. I responded greedily, immediately deepening the kiss and feeling my abdomen swell with warmth as he pressed his long, lanky body against me. He rolled away and pulled off his underwear. 

I sat up and removed my top and panties. I hadn't put on the little shorts that went with these pajamas. 

He moaned softly as he looked at me, reaching for me and slipping a hand down between my legs. His middle finger teased my swollen labia and they parted like a blooming flower and dribbled wetness over his fingertips. He moaned again and latched onto my nipple, making me gasp. 

He suckled for a minute and switched to the other breast, pushing a finger inside me and swirling it around. I groaned under his ministrations. He didn't seem to be in any hurry and I was getting impatient. I was throbbing softly, still feeling a little tender and sore from our previous activities, but I hadn't made love to him since yesterday morning and I wanted to feel him inside me again. 

"That's enough foreplay for me," I said in between pants, as I lifted his head from my breast and pulled him up into a kiss. I felt his lips smile against mine before he took my mouth under his, plunging his tongue inside to explore my tonsils. 

I tugged on his shoulder and he rolled into the cradle of my thighs, hitching up on his knees. He gazed down at me, eyelids swollen with arousal, his pupils dilated, making his eyes look almost completely black. "So beautiful," he murmured. 

He slowly moved my legs so they rested on his chest pointed straight up in the air. I smiled at him realizing what he was going to do. "Will you be able to take it?" he asked. 

"Why wouldn't I be able to take it?" I asked. 

He moved his torso forward to demonstrate his point. "I'm not staying here, I'm going to bend over." 

My eyes went wide as I realized what he was saying. I'd thought he was going to enter me from where he squatted in front of me, thighs spread wide, his ass cheeks resting on his heels. 

"Oh," I said, reaching for his shaft that was now pulsing and rigid between his legs. 

I felt it swell even further as I wrapped my hand around it and we both moaned. "I'll penetrate deeply this way," he said between gasps as I stroked his cock. 

"Let's try," I panted. 

His arms went around the outside of my legs and slowly sank to the mattress until his elbows touched down. He penetrated me slowly, watching my face carefully. 

I groaned and threw my head back as I felt him fill me up to the brim. He stopped and I opened my eyes. "Keep going," I panted. 

He took a deep breath and sunk all the way in. I felt so full. He began to thrust gently and it was pure sensation from the start. This position tilted my hips up off the mattress so that he was stroking down into me, dragging his cock over my G- spot. As he retreated, his throbbing shaft would tickle my clit which was now swollen and aching from arousal. He kept his pace slow, letting me feel every delectable inch of him as he slid in and out. 

His mouth covered mine and he kissed me gently and kept thrusting. His breathing accelerated and he said, "Have to go faster." 

"Yes, do it." 

He sped up, his thrusts becoming shorter and less coordinated. My hands moved from his shoulders where they had been clinging and moved them down to cup his beautiful ass. I loved the feeling of those strong muscles flexing under my hands as he pounded into me. 

His mouth left mine and dropped to my neck where he sucked at the site of the light hickey he had already given me. The pleasure/pain of that sore spot being sucked sent me over the edge. He let go of my neck and shouted as I wailed through my orgasm feeling it wash over me in clenching waves. His hot seed flooded me as he continued to pump into me and I clung to his ass. 

We both sighed afterwards and he gently sat up, letting my legs drop to the bed. He rolled off and onto his back, pulling me up to his side and putting his arms around me. I laid my head on his shoulder and whispered, "I love you, Mulder." 

He tipped my chin up with his fingers and bent his head down to kiss me gently. "I love you too, Scully. Let's get some sleep." 

"Hmmm," I hummed and that was the last think I knew until morning. 

* * *

**MARY MAGDELAN CLOISTER**  
**BLOOMINGDALE, TN**  
10:00 AM the Next Morning 

We stood looking at the burned out husk of what had once been the Mary Magdalen Cloister. It had been gutted by fire. The windows were gone, the stone edifice blackened with soot. Off to the side there was a tower which seemed to be still untouched although it was weather worn and crumbling. 

We said nothing as we stood in the field surrounding the cloister, high grasses having grown wild and brushing our legs up to waist level. Scully sighed loudly and said, "Well, can get much more of a dead end than this, can you?" 

I looked at the ground, wondering why we always had this kind of luck. I muttered, "Sorry, Scully, this is probably a wild goose chase anyway." 

"Not necessarily. We can go to the nearest City Hall and find out if they have records on this place, check with the local P.D. and see if anyone survived the fire, when it was and if they know where the nuns relocated to." 

"Yeah. And then what?" 

"We look for the nuns." 

"Do you really want to do that? Go to all that trouble? Knowing that it's probably a waste of time?" 

"Do you have any other ideas?" 

I shook my head in the negative. "No, unfortunately, right now, I don't." It was my turn to sigh loudly. 

Then I heard Scully gasp. She was staring toward the tower and turned my head quickly to look. We both drew our weapons. 

A huge black bear was snuffling around the base of the tower. Scully whispered, "Be careful, Mulder, if it's female, she may have cubs nearby." 

I nodded. We stood silently, letting the bear do it's thing. Then I said, "Scully, why would a bear come here?" 

"I don't know." 

"Food." 

She glanced at me. "What are you thinking?" 

"Why would it be investigating this area unless it smelled food?" 

She pursed her lips like she did when she was thinking and I jerked my eyes away lest I be distracted. 'Keep your eye on the monster, Mulder,' I cautioned myself. 

"We must be downwind. It doesn't know we're here," she whispered. 

The bear was easily three hundred yards away, but I knew how keen their hearing was supposed to be. Just then it stood up on it's back legs and looked in our direction. Holy shit, it was HUGE. It must have stood eight feet high on its back legs. I'd never seen one outside of a zoo. 

"Hello, momma bear," I whispered. 

Scully murmured, "Christy Almighty, look at the size of that thing." 

"Yeah, you're about lunch size," I quipped. She threw me a dirty look. 

I think the bear heard me because it took that moment to let out a fierce intimidating roar ... and charged at us. Both our weapons went off at the same time, hitting it in the chest. Blood bloomed out over it's fur. 

It roared again, twisted in pain and then kept coming on all fours, listing off to the side. We fired again. I don't know if it was Scully's bullet or mine, but one of them went through the eye. It bellowed in pain, and then fell to the ground with a surprisingly silent thud. We looked at each other, circled cautiously, she in one direction, me in the other. 

I said, "We need to make sure it's dead." 

She nodded. "I can't see, the grass is too high." 

"Scully, let's stay together." 

"No, if it goes for one of us, even wounded, it's better if the other can still fire easily." 

I nodded and we made a wide circle through the tall grass, approaching slowly and tightening our circle from each side until we were about fifteen feet away on either side of the gigantic corpse. It was still and silent. Scully's head bent to one side as she squinted at the ass end of the bear. She looked up and said, "Not momma, it's a male." 

"Jesus, it's a giant." 

"They are bigger up close and personal, aren't they?" she joked. Her voice had a slight quiver to it that belied her calm exterior. 

"Could this be our Werewolf?" I asked, thinking out loud. As soon as I said it, I knew I was way off. 

"Too brown, too far away, Mulder. And it's an animal." 

"You said it might be an animal." 

"No, I said it might be someone working with an animal ... like a dog, not a wild bear!" 

I shrugged, letting it go. I knew she was right. I picked up a small stone and tossed it at the bear. It bounced harmlessly off it's stomach. No movement, no sound. We sighed in relief. "Now what?" I asked. 

"We have to call the police and find out who would be responsible for coming out to get this thing. I don't know who covers wildlife in this state." 

I holstered my weapon and pulled out my cell phone. I began dialing when Scully said, "Mulder! Shhh! Listen!" 

I clicked the phone off and cocked my ear in the direction of hers. From the tower a faint whining or wailing sound could be heard. "Could be the wind," Scully whispered, not sounding convinced. 

"Let's get closer." 

We jogged toward the tower, the sound becoming louder. When we approached the base of the tower, it was unmistakably the sound of someone crying. We both shouldered the big heavy wooden door open that was sagging on its hinges and nearly fell inside the doorway. "My God, Mulder, could he still be here?" she asked into the gloom. 

We pulled out our flashlights and looked around at the stone walls and the dirt floor, seeing nothing. There was a staircase rising up in a spiral around the outside of the circular room. It rose about three stories and then passed onto another floor through a doorway. The crumpling beams three stories above my head did nothing for my confidence as we looked around, trying to determine where the sound was coming from. 

Scully suddenly darted across the floor and skidded to a stop, dropping to her knees and peering at the floor. I followed her, shining my light at the floor and seeing what she had seen. 

There were iron bars in the floor. A soft whimpering could be heard and then the stronger voice of an older female saying, barely above a whisper, ". . . They were on their way up to Jerusalem, with Jesus leading the way, and the disciples were astonished, while those who followed were afraid. Again he took the Twelve aside and told them what was going to happen to him. "We are going up to Jerusalem," he said, "and the Son of Man will be betrayed to the chief priests and teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles, who will mock him and spit on him, flog him and kill him. Three days later he will rise." 

I raised my eyebrows as Scully looked at me and said, "The Gospel of Mark." 

She turned back to the bars, shone her light down and hollered, "Hello! Who's down there?" 

Her flashlight showed a straight drop down. It appeared that there was some sort of cave or opening beyond that, but it was too black to tell. Our small flashlights didn't provide enough illumination to see past the ten foot drop to another dirt floor. 

The sounds stopped and I knelt beside her, pulling on the bars and finding them embedded in cement about six inches below the dirt floor. Scully shouted again, "We're FBI agents! Can you hear me? We're FBI. Who's down there? We aren't going to hurt you." 

Some shuffling could be heard and a face appeared below in the hole. Then a woman stepped into the light of our flashlights that we held pointed at the dirt at her feet. She was filthy, her long blonde hair hanging in greasy ropes. Her lip was split and she was clutching a ratty olive green blanket around her. Her shoulders could be seen above the blanket and I realized she was naked underneath. 

She looked up, tears streaming down her face and cried, "You have to get us out of here!" 

I heard Scully draw a deep breath, "We will. We need to know how to get in. Who are you?" 

"Christina Wales." 

I whispered, "We found them, Scully! They're alive!" 

Another person, wrapped in a black blanket appeared next to the blonde and looked up. She was an elderly woman with brown hair, streaked liberally with gray. Her face showed wrinkles and the strain of her years and her ordeal. She said, "You are police?" 

Scully said, "Yes, we're FBI agents. How do we get to you? How were you put down there? What is your name?" 

This one obviously wasn't any girl from Dial-A-Dream, I thought, squelching the uncharitable thought. I didn't know how irreverent my thought was until she said, "I'm Sister Regina." 

Holy shit, she was a nun! She said, "You need to go about thirty yards straight south from the rear of the tower. There you will find a pile of stones. Next to it is a heavy wooden trap door that leads into a concrete shelter. Follow the hall and it will lead you to us. But he secured the door. I don't know how, with a heavy pad lock perhaps. We have tried to break out, but can't." 

I said, "How many of you are there?" 

"Five girls and myself." 

"Who's He?" Scully asked. 

"Nazareth," the nun said, her voice faltering. "He's .." 

"We know who he is," Scully answered. 

The nun looked up, surprised. Scully smiled in reassurance. "We'll get you out of there, hang on. We're going to call for back up. Do you have clothes?" 

The nun shook her head. "He took them and left only dirty blankets." 

I nodded at Scully and whipped out my cell phone, dialing the local P.D. requesting at least four officers and three ambulances, figuring they could load two in each ambulance. I also requested that they bring some clothes for the women. 

We left the tower and jogged out into the field from the back of the tower. We found the stones and it took us a minute to find the door. He had camouflaged it with leaves and dirt. Once uncovered, it was indeed secured with a big pad lock. We stood back and Scully fired the lock off. We bent to hoist the door and it was all we could do with both us heaving on it. I gasped out, "Christ, this guy must be strong!" 

She grunted and the door finally flopped over on it's rusted hinges. The door easily weighed more than the two of us put together. There was a ladder leading down and Scully went first and I followed. 

We couldn't move very fast due to the lack of light but we made our way through the long concrete tunnel as quickly as we could. It ended abruptly into a cavernous room with a dirt floor. 

Scully stumbled when she hit it, but then righted herself as I grasped her elbow and steadied her. Shining our lights around revealing ten metal army cots with thin, two inch mattresses on them. Six of them held the five girls and the nun. He had room for four more. 

There was a bucket in the corner obviously used for defecation and urination. The entire room stunk to high heaven. We could see that the beds were equipped with shackles at the head and feet. Good lord, what was he doing to these girls down here? 

I smiled gently at one of the girls and she flinched and looked away. I was afraid I had my answer. Shit, I'd bet that they all had been raped. I kept my voice small and soft and said, "I won't hurt you girls, I promise." 

They all nodded in turn and Scully smiled at me, inferring what I had from the set up in the room. Scully asked, "Did he feed you?" 

The nun, who seemed to be the spokesperson for the group said, "He brought us beef broth and bread, that's about it." 

"How long have you been here?" 

"I have been here two months. He brought the first girl two weeks later and one girl every two weeks since." 

Scully said, "The police and ambulances are on their way." 

One of the girls said, "He's due back soon." 

We were all silent for a moment. "Well, he's got a surprise coming, then," I said. 

Scully said, "I'm a medical doctor. Do any of you have any immediate need of medical attention." 

Head shakes all around. I said, "I'm going back out to guard the entrance, Scully. If he shows up and sees the door open, he'll probably bolt. But if he shows up before the cops, maybe I can grab him." 

She nodded and said, "Be careful, Mulder, he's must be strong as an Ox." 

I nodded and headed back up the tunnel, sensing that my presence was making the girls nervous despite my reassurances. 

* * *

Extricating the girls went smoothly. The cops had brought jumpsuits for the women to wear to the hospital. They were all transported to the nearest hospital and treated for exposure. Rape counselors were brought in to speak with each of them and they all gave statements to the police. Mulder made himself scarce, knowing that women were uncomfortable being around a man after such an experience. Women physicians and police officers were called in to assist where any contact with the women was required. 

Nazareth Garcia was nowhere to be found. The descriptions were horrific. Each woman described being shackled to the bed and repeatedly raped. He would tire of one and come home with another. He had told them that he was indeed a customer of the service and had spoken to each of them. Despite their use of fake names, he had discovered their real names and their home addresses by following them. 

When he left his little sanctuary, he shaved the hair around his wrists and on his cheeks and forehead. He wore long pants, a shirt buttoned up to the neck and a long trench coat with the collar turned up. He often wore a fedora pulled low over his brow to hide his eyes and would dip his profusely hairy chin into the neck of his trench coat. 

>From a distance he would look like a man bundled up against a windy evening. Only upon close inspection would see that he looked like an animal. All the girls had puncture wounds on their lips. He liked to bite their lips. They all described his odd, ugly teeth. They were widely spaced, sharp on the ends and very much like fangs. The wide spaces and crooked nature of them made it difficult for him speak without drooling, often giving him the appearance of drooling animal. 

They gave a description of the buff colored long hair that covered his trunk, neck and face and legs. Fortunately, the man wasn't well endowed so there had been no tearing or tissue damage to the girls' vaginas despite the fact that he did nothing to prepare them for his entry. This in no way diminished the trauma of the rapes that these women had suffered. 

Unbelievably, the nun was taking it the best. The cloister had burned down about three months ago. She suspected that Nazareth had set the fire. They had been having trouble with him she said. He'd always been an exceptional student of both his academic studies and his theology studies. He was smart, attentive and showed promise as a man of God. Or so they thought. 

Then they found a Playboy magazine in his room one night. He'd been severely spoken to by the Mother Superior about the temptations of the flesh and his promise to renounce all things earthly and physical. They had no idea how he'd gotten it. He must have been sneaking out at night, they thought. Certainly no one had brought it in. His discontent with poverty and disconnection from the world grew although it had been explained to him that he could not go about as normal people could. He was told he was special and one of God's messengers, sent to them. 

He worked a lot at the cloister, often doing repairs that he learned how to do from books. He took care of manual labor that was too strenuous for the nuns. He was rarely seen outside the grounds of the cloister that was ringed by a wall of stockade fencing. He had been seen though, when the nuns were entering or exiting the gates. They had heard the rumors in the small towns nearby that the nuns were raising an animal. They heard the ridiculous rumors that they were aiding and abetting Bigfoot. They had laughed them off, knowing that ignorant people often made ignorant assumptions. 

Unfortunately, Nazareth had overheard some of the nuns laughing over the rumors. He had taken it hard and began shaving daily. But it was impossible to keep ahead of it and the more he shaved, the faster and thicker the hair grew. They encouraged him to stop and accept the hand that God had dealt him. 

Sister Regina expressed and admitted to having her doubts. She had been assigned as his principal teacher for his academic studies after Sister Mary Margaret had passed away some seven years ago. She had become close with Nazareth and he had confessed to her his desires to see the outside world. He had admitted to having lustful thoughts about women he had seen through the gates and even confessed to her that he had had lustful thoughts about her. He had seemed to be beating himself up over it and they had prayed together for his desires to be removed. 

But the good sister had known something was rotten in Denmark. She had expressed her fears and concerns to the new Mother Superior, Sister Agnes. Sister Agnes was a utilitarian nun whose entire life had been led by the book. She had always had an open distain for Nazareth, but hid it well and never expressed it in his presence. She did agree that it was her cross to bear and that he probably was a test from God and she was not passing the test. She had even spoken of stepping aside as Mother Superior because of her inability to totally accept him. 

Sister Regina thought that the Mother Superior was simply afraid of Nazareth because she, like Sister Regina herself, sensed the thinly veiled rage dwelling inside the boy who had now grown into a man. He lived in a very protected world, surrounded by women: women he was never able to touch or express anything more than a platonic affection for. In retrospect, Sister Regina wondered if they shouldn't have tried to get him treatment for his condition and exposed him in limited degrees to the outside world. 

He would have been ridiculed and it might have cemented his determination to stay within the cloister and live out his life in solitude among the nuns. Instead, after taking a vote, the sisters had determined that exposing him to the outside world would just make his discontent grow and they were already having trouble dealing with him. 

He wasn't a large man, perhaps 5 foot, 9 inches tall, but he was indeed heavily muscled from all the labor he did around the cloister. He routinely chopped wood all summer for use in the fireplaces during winter time. He hauled water from the outside spring on the property and prepared baths for the nuns that they partook of once a week. They each had a day when they bathed. There were fourteen nuns and two bathed each day to conserve the water. They did not have indoor plumbing there and used a wooden outhouse constructed by Nazareth. He had decided he didn't like taking care of his business in the open, especially later as he grew into manhood. 

This afforded privacy for him and the nuns as well. They were grateful. Then the fateful day came when there was a fire in the chapel. All the drapes and the cloth covering the alter were ablaze when the nuns entered for their morning prayers. They had formed a bucket brigade from the spring pump to the chapel, ironically, with Nazareth helping. But the flames and smoke soon overwhelmed them. Nazareth left at one point to get two more buckets of water and they exited the chapel only to find that the portion of the house that contained their sleeping quarters was also ablaze. 

They had fled the building and watched helplessly as the building was gutted by fire. They had knelt and prayed for guidance while the flames consumed their home. Finally, one of the nuns took their one car, a 1982 Ford Fairmont and went into town, summoning the fire department. They arrived and poured water throughout the building to make sure that all the flames were out and wouldn't erupt again. 

The local Catholic Church had set up a temporary shelter for them in the Parish Hall attached to the rear of the church until they could find new quarters or rebuild. They didn't have the money to rebuild or to rent a place and were trying to figure out what to do when the townspeople began throwing charity functions to raise money for them to rebuild the interior of their home. They were overwhelmed with gratitude. 

There was no escaping Nazareth's exposure to the outside world now. He'd had to retreat with them and move to the Parish Hall. The priest there, Father McNeely had had long discussions with him about entering a monastery to be among men rather than women. He had said nothing but listened to all the priest had to say. He was the only one in town who didn't gasp, flinch and shy away from Nazareth. Sister had sensed his hurt and despair. Then one day, a week and a half into their stay in the Parish Hall, he disappeared. They asked the local people to look out for him and promised that he was harmless, just confused and hurt by their reactions to him. 

Guilt had prompted the townspeople to look for him, but no one could find him. But they hadn't looked in the one place that Sister Regina figured he had gone; the place that had been his home for 49 years. She walked the three miles to the cloister and wandered through the rubble of the building, finding a few items that could be salvaged and picking them up as she went along. She exited to begin her walk home and there he was standing in front of her, watching solemnly. 

She had asked him why he was here and he had replied that this was the only place where he felt safe. He could be alone with God there and not feel the fear and disgust of the people in the world. 

* * *

* * *

**PART 9 (NC-17)**  
**HOSPITAL**  
**RICHMOND, VA**

Sister Regina had talked to him at length and he had sat down and confessed to her that he wanted so much to be out in the world but now realized it was impossible. He was angry because there were things he wanted to do before he died. 

She had asked him what it was that he wanted to do before he died. That's where things had gone bad. He had smiled at her and she'd felt terror for the first time in her life. He'd grabbed her and hauled her down to the storm shelter below the tower. She's screamed and pleaded with him to let her go, saying that God didn't want this, but he was deaf to her pleas. He was extremely strong and Sister was a small woman, a mere inch taller than I was and not nearly so strong. 

He had easily subdued her, tied her to the bed and cut off her habit. Her pleading finally annoyed him and he'd gagged her and then spent a long time touching her everywhere, seemingly fascinated by her skin and differences in their bodies. He'd lingered over her breasts and private parts. She said his drooling and grunting was repulsive to her for the first time and looking at him then, she saw him as an evil creature for the first time. Her fears were confirmed when he mounted her without warning and penetrated her roughly, taking her virginity ... at the age of 65. 

She said she had retreated behind a wall of fear and pain and prayed for her life nearly every minute for the next two weeks as he left and brought supplies to the shelter. He spoon fed her, keeping her tied and raped her twice a day for two weeks. She could barely talk by the end of it, the trauma having snapped her mind and she retreated into a delirium where she talked to God, begging him for forgiveness for whatever she had done to deserve his punishment. 

Now I'm a Catholic, but this was a lot for me to take. I was angry that the poor nun felt that her being raped was God's will. That was the saddest thing of all. The woman had probably never hurt a fly since the day she was born. She had lived in that cloister since she was twelve years old, having been 16 when Nazareth arrived and still an acolyte. 

She was swimming in guilt because she had felt relief when the first girl showed up and his attention was diverted from her. She had immediately said acts of contrition for her uncharitable thoughts. He would leave them untied when he left, returning to feed them and such. But when he was ready to have sex, he would tie them to the beds. As the numbers grew, they all would be tied so that they could not interfere with his chosen girl for that day. 

The nun had regained her equilibrium as he had left her alone for a couple of weeks. She began to speak with the girls, encouraging them to pray for rescue and comforting them the best she could. It had been an awful ordeal. She then felt that God's purpose was for her to help the other girls survive and so he had her endure this event so she could understand what they felt. At least, that's how she justified it in her mind at the time. 

Surprisingly, no one had looked for the nun. Oh, they had looked about town, but figured she had gone off on her own to find a place for them, wanting to surprise them or something. Nazareth was returning to the Parish Hall each day at some point, so they never suspected that he was involved as he wasn't missing with her. After about three weeks, they did begin to worry and informed the police that one of their number was missing. 

The police had searched the area and put out a statewide missing person's report, but again, none thought to check the burned out cloister. So now the girls were safe but looking ahead to a long road toward mental recovery from their experience. 

I imagine to the younger girls, the fact that he was so aesthetically repulsive was a problem as well. A couple of them said that they had thought being raped was the worst possible fate a woman could suffer. But having been raped by what appeared to be a animal, a half man, half ape like creature had added to the terror. 

The man deserved to be put away for life for what he had done. On the other hand, I felt sorry for him, knowing that he had been given a fate none of us would envy and had been raised by the one group of people that could have loved him, but also could not possibly understand his normal male desires. Instead of discussing them in a clinical or rational way, they had made him feel guilty and prayed for his normal desires to be removed. 

If he'd been able to masturbate regularly, he may have been able to control his desire. As it was, he'd been taught that this was a sin and so acting upon any normal desires was automatically accompanied by guilt. It was a gaping flaw in the Catholic religion as well as many other fundamentalist religions. There were some priests and nuns that reached that higher plane of existence where temptations of the flesh were not an issue in their lives. They were truly devoted to God. But for the average person, whose spirituality was not at that level, suppressing normal sexual desire could indeed be a dangerous thing. 

I wondered how long he had been festering with desire for contact with a woman. He'd probably gone through puberty at 13 years old. If that was the case, he'd held his sexual desires in check for over thirty years before finally snapping. That didn't lessen the extent or horror of his crime against these women. But it presented an interesting twist to his story. Although rape was an act of violence and rage, and not about sex, his was a unique story. 

His guilt had twisted his suppression of his urges into rage and probably just fed the desire as time went on. But if we caught him, where would we be able to imprison him? Where could he go where he would be safe from other inmates who undoubtedly would find him inhuman? And interesting conundrum. 

But we had to find him first. 

* * *

**JAMIE LEVEAU'S APARTMENT**  
**RICHMOND, VA**  
The Next Day 

We left someone staking out the cloister should Nazareth return there. We returned to Richmond to catch J and Daryl and Detective Mulharen up on the case. We had been communicating with Mulharen via phone and fax the entire time. 

An APB was put out on Nazareth Garcia. A police sketch artist had sat with Sister Regina while she gave one of the most detailed descriptions of another human being that I had ever heard. I later teased her asking, "Is there a video tape in there?" while tapping my forehead. 

She'd smiled and said, "I have an eidetic memory." 

I'd chuckled and told her that my partner did too and how annoying it was trying to keep up with people like Mulder and her. She smiled good naturedly and we'd had a serious talk about her experience. We'd discussed my struggles with my faith over the years and how the more weird stuff I encountered, the more my faith was strengthened. We'd discussed that paradox at length. 

She reminded me of Einstein who had said, after figuring out his theory of relativity, that he was never more sure of the existence of God than at that moment ... because nothing besides God could have created such a perfect system. So she reaffirmed my belief that science and faith could live in the same house. 

She was thinking of leaving church and giving up her chosen life as a nun. This experience had scarred her deeply. She was unsure if she was still fit to be a bride of Christ in light of what had happened. I stressed that she had not willingly engaged in this activity and therefore she had not sinned as far as I was concerned. Nazareth had, but she was still as pure in heart and intent as she ever was. I encouraged her to go through therapy and not make any decisions for a while yet until she was more healed from her experience. 

She'd thanked me and told me as I left that if I ever wanted to do bible study, she could recite the entire bible from memory, the Old and New Testaments. I'd laughed and said I would keep it in mind. 

* * *

I looked at Scully as she sat relaxing on Jamie's couch. We were both exhausted and I wondered what she had talked to that nun about for so long. I was afraid to ask. Why did religious people always make me nervous? I thought I was intimately acquainted with all of my various shades of guilt. But perhaps there was still some hidden away that made me feel threatened of exposure by people who were closer to God than I was. I wasn't even sure I believed in him, but sometimes, my conviction wavered. 

But I'd seen so many horrible things, I just couldn't figure out how there could be a divine hand in all that evil. In any case, she sipped her ice tea and we relaxed for a few minutes. 

We'd eaten dinner and were full and getting sleepy. Daryl stood up and said, "J, I have to go home and get some more clothes, all right?" 

J nodded. "Thanks for staying. I know it's a pain in the ass." 

"No it's not," he replied. "I like it here." 

He'd bent down and kissed J on the cheek and took his leave. 

J looked at us and said, "So ... now what?" 

I said, "We aren't sure. We've put out an APB on him. You should see the picture the sketch artist came up with." 

"I'd like to." 

Scully said, "I'll see if I can get a copy for you. Although, you may be better off not seeing it." 

J nodded. "So he's still out there." 

I glanced at Scully who merely sighed. We were used to these frustrating interludes in a case where good had been accomplished but there were still a lot of unanswered questions. I said, "Yes he is. We have people watching the cloister. I'd imagine he'll have to return there at some point." 

J nodded. "So he could still come after me?" 

I couldn't lie to him. "He could, although the threat is lessened." 

"I don't see how. If he's had his collection of girls taken away, he's bound to be madder than ever, and more desperate." 

"That's true, these types of criminals rarely decelerate in their activities. However, this is a unique case. He had a perfect set up there at the cloister. No one went there. No one was allowed inside except the nuns unless by express invitation. He was safe from prying eyes and could carry on without worrying about being seen or overheard." 

"And now?" 

"And now he has nowhere to hide. If he turns up at the Parish Hall, they will call the cops. If he turns up at the cloister, the stake outs there will nab him. And he can't just stroll around in broad daylight. There's an APB out on him. He would attract attention immediately." 

"He might disappear for a while and then come back. Is that what you're saying?" 

"It's possible, but I'm confident that he's going to make a mistake without his safety net, that being the cloister." 

J nodded. "I'm still scared. I know it's silly. I haven't left this house, except with Daryl, to go to the store or whatnot. And I haven't put on a dress since that night at the lounge. If he sees me when I go outside, I want him to know I'm a man. For the first time in twenty years, I want people to be SURE I'm a man!" 

We smiled sad smiles at him. He smiled and said, "Ironic isn't it?" 

I nodded. "This will be over soon, J. I have a good feeling that we will catch him soon. How long can someone like that hide? He can't blend into the crowd like other criminals." 

"Not unless he's a master of disguise, like J here," Scully quipped. Then she yawned so loudly her jaw cracked as she held the back of her hand over her mouth. 

We all chuckled and the tension was broken. I said, "I know it's early, but I'm exhausted, J. I think we need to go to bed. Daryl will be back soon. If you need to leave the house for anything, wake me up. Wake me up for anything. And I mean ANYTHING, even if you just have a funny feeling. O.K.?" 

He looked at me. "Righto, boss," he quipped. 

We stood and headed for the stairs. Scully patted his shoulder in a gesture of reassurance and we climbed the stairs. We undressed and fell into the bed, too tired to do more than kiss softly before our eyes were already closing. Tomorrow was another day. Another day to hunt for the Werewolf. 

* * *

I sat straight up in bed, the sounds of a blood curdling scream echoing in my ears. Mulder was out of bed and yanking on his boxers before I could register that I was awake. 

He grabbed his weapon from the holster on the bedside table and charged out into the hallway. I shouted, "Get the light, Mulder!" 

The light came on and flooded the hallway. I pulled on my robe, fastened it hastily and grabbed my own weapon. Mulder was wiggling the door handle to J's room as I came into the hallway. He shouted, "Jamie!" 

Must have been a slip and I couldn't blame him under the circumstances. I heard J shout one word that was then cut off by the distinctive sound of flesh on flesh. The word was "Window!" 

"Window?" I asked. "Oh, shit, Mulder, he's taking him out the window!" 

He looked at me and shouldered the door open. It flew inwards, shards of wood splintering into the air as the door jam gave way. He said, "You take the outside, I'm following." 

I nodded and flew down the stairs. I saw my little white ked sneakers at the bottom of the stairs and slipped into them without bothering to untie them or get my heel in. I hussled down the stairs to the garage level, the sneaks flapping on my heels like flip-flops. 

I careened around the townhouse just in time to see a gigantic shadow shove something to the ground. He shadow roared as Mulder dropped off the fire escape at the back of the house and leveled his gun at the shadow, shouting, "FBI, scumbag! Don't move or I'll blow your fucking head off!" 

The shadow grunted and took off at a dead run. Just then Daryl came flying around the building, gun drawn and took off after the shadow. He had shoes on, Mulder didn't. I heard Mulder curse as he stepped on something that hurt his feet. 

I ran to J who was now sitting up but rubbing the side of his head. I asked, "Are you all right?" 

"Yes. I bumped my head when he pushed me down." 

"Why did he push you away?" 

"I told him a I was a man," he panted. I glanced toward the direction the men had taken off in and J said, "Go, catch him. I'll just go back inside." 

"You're head is all right?" 

"Yes, not a hard hit." 

"O.K." 

J whipped his teeshirt off and handed it to me. I smiled gratefully and pulled it on over my robe and took off after the guys, knowing there was no hope of me catching them unless they had caught up with him and stopped him. I could hear them shouting ahead of me as the man circled around and headed back toward the street. 

I spun on my heel and took off at an angle, back around the townhouse, hoping to cut him off. I rounded the front of the townhouse and skidded to a halt on the sidewalk as he burst out of the alley and ran across the street, trench coat flapping around his legs. I fired low and the bullet pinged off the pavement. 

The sound was enough to scare him into skidding and starting to run off to his right. But it was all the hesitation that was needed. Mulder and Daryl burst out onto the sidewalk and the three of us surrounded him from all sides, weapons drawn. 

He turned in a complete circle, once and then sank to the ground on his knees, curling into a fetal position and flopping over on his side. Daryl pulled a pair of cuffs out of the back of his jeans and approached slowly. He crouched behind the man and said, "Sit up." 

He was clumsy but did as he was told. As he did, his hat fell off and he stared up into my face. His brow and chin and sides of his head were covered with long thick, buff colored hair. He had razor stubble on his cheeks and above his eyebrows which I could now see in the light of the streetlights. 

Only his eyes, ears and mouth were spared from the excessive hair covering his face. I gasped in spite of my effort to look calm and unruffled. 

Daryl barked, "Hands behind your back." 

He did so and Daryl cuffed him. Mulder said, "I need to get some clothes on." He was standing in the middle of the street in his underwear. 

I felt my mouth jerk into a smile and said, "Go ahead. I'll stay till you get back." 

Fortunately, no one was out this time of night although I saw some lights in windows up and down the street. They'd probably heard the gun shot, not a common sound in this neighborhood. Daryl pulled him to his feet and led him out of the road and onto the sidewalk, where he sunk to his knees again. 

Daryl reached into his jean pocket and pulled out his car keys. He dangled them and tossed them to me. "Can you get my car and bring it around. It's the brown unmarked over in that alleyway." 

I nodded and clicked the safety on my Sig and trotted to the car, unlocking it and sliding behind the wheel. I chuckled as I slid into the backrest only to find that my feet were about a mile from the pedals. I searched the front of the seat and found the bar that adjusts it and pulled it up so I could reach the pedals and see out of the windshield. I fired it up and carefully backed out of the alleyway. I circled the block rather than try to execute a K-turn in this boat and pulled up along side the curb. I shut it off and stepped out. 

Mulder was back and they hauled Nazareth to his feet and placed him in the back of the car. Daryl said, "Shit," like he'd just forgotten something and said, "How's J?" 

Mulder answered. "He's shaken but not stirred. He's O.K." 

Daryl nodded and asked the man, "What's your name?" 

He hesitated and said, "Nathareth." 

His speech was slightly slurred as his tongue tried to work around his long pointed teeth. I couldn't get a good look at them but could see the wide spaces in between them. It was a shame, he probably could have had those fixed. 

"Nazareth what?" Daryl asked. 

"Nathareth Garthia." 

Daryl took a deep breath, watching him through the open back door of the cruiser. I turned to go get some clothes on as Mulder pulled out his phone to call the police. I heard Daryl talking again, this time giving Nazareth his Miranda rights. 

"You are under arrest for kidnapping, rape, assault on an officer, breaking and entering and second degree assault. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can't afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?" 

I didn't hear the answer, but was glad that Daryl had thought of the Miranda rights. Hadn't even crossed my mind. I'd hate for him to get off on a technicality now. Oh, our wonderful legal system, where the criminals of the world lived on loopholes in the written law and the rules of evidence that often protected the criminal rather than the victim. It was an imperfect system, but it was still the greatest system in the world. I really believed that. It was why I went into law enforcement in the first place. Because I thought I could make a difference. 

I went into the townhouse and up the stairs, grabbing a blouse and slacks out of my suitcase and hastily dressing and slipping into my pumps for the ride to the police station. I grabbed my blazer and Mulder's leather jacket and headed back downstairs. It was getting cold out and although he'd put on slacks and a dress shirt, he hadn't had a jacket on. 

I hugged Jamie on the way out and said, "Do you want to go to the station with us?" 

He shook his head. "Maybe you should go to the hospital and have that bump on your noggin checked out." 

"It's all right. I'll have an egg there, but it will be fine." 

"Any dizziness?" 

"No." 

"Nausea?" 

"No." 

"Double vision?" 

"No, doctor! I'm fine!" he said, waving me away. "Really, go do your thing. I think I'm going to lay down." 

"Promise me if you feel anything, you'll call an ambulance." 

He nodded as Daryl entered. Before I could ask, he said, "Agent Mulder is with him. And what's this about an ambulance? Are you all right?" 

He strode to J and took him into a gentle hug. J sighed and said, "I'm fine. I was just telling the good doctor to stop fussing and leave me alone." 

"Well, we're going to check you out anyway," Daryl stated. 

"No, I just want to lie down." 

"Nope. Sorry. No can do. Better safe than sorry." His tone brooked no argument and J sighed dramatically again. 

"I appreciate everyone's concern but I gotta tell you. I can't wait for this place to clear out!" 

We chuckled and Daryl took him by the shoulders and turned him around, pointing him toward the door. "Out," he said. 

J's shoulders slumped and he walked to the door. 

When we got outside, other cops had arrived and Mulder was flashing his badge as he stood on the sidewalk. Mulder and I took Daryl's car and transported Nazareth to the station house in Richmond and were met by Detective Mulharen who put him in a holding cell. 

Daryl went with one of the cruisers and took J to the hospital to be checked out. 

* * *

**RICHMOND COUNTY POLICE STATION**  
**RICHMOND, VA**

Fingerprinting was surprisingly easy. The palms of his hands were bare and spared from his excessive hairy condition. He was booked formally and the State's Attorney's office was called, leaving a request on their machine for a defense attorney to be assigned. He was led back to the holding cell while we filled out paperwork and typed reports of our apprehension of the suspect. 

We called the hospital and let the staff know that they could tell the women in the morning, that Nazareth had been apprehended. They were staying over tonight but would probably be released tomorrow with scheduled follow ups with a psychiatrist. 

Mulder and I went back downstairs to the holding tank and approached his cell at the end of the corridor lined with holding cells. His muttering was audible as my heels clicked on the pavement. Mulder rolled his eyes as we approached and could hear what he was saying. He was reciting scripture. Oddly enough it was from the same Gospel that the nun had been speaking when we'd found them in that cellar. 

". . . They were on their way up to Jerusalem, with Jesus leading the way, and the disciples were astonished, while those who followed were afraid. Again he took the Twelve aside and told them what was going to happen to him. "We are going up to Jerusalem," he said, "and the Son of Man will be betrayed to the chief priests and teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles, who will mock him and spit on him, flog him and kill him. Three days later he will rise." 

I'm sure those words were more significant to Nazareth than to most of us. The fate of Jesus as seen through the Gospel of Mark was a long standing accepted view of the story of Jesus of Nazareth. Nazareth Garcia was indeed betrayed by the society that refused to accept him. His chief priests, the nuns, had betrayed him as far as he was concerned, having been unable to understand his needs. He was afraid of and probably would be given the death penalty for his crimes. He probably considered the outside world to be Gentiles, as opposed to the simple poverty that he had grown up in living with the nuns. Oh well, enough speculation, I thought. 

We stopped outside the cell and he stared at us for a few minutes. None of us said anything. His voice was subdued but contained a hint of anger when he finally spoke. He said, "Haff yourthelf a good enough look?" 

I shook my head sadly. "Nazareth, I'm a medical doctor." 

"Ah, tho you want to thudy me?" He couldn't say the letter S I realized. The disgust was evident in his voice. 

"No, I wanted to know if you had any injuries from your encounter with the pavement earlier," I said calmly. 

He laughed, a tortured sound that reverberated off the walls. He looked at the ceiling, his hands gripping the sides of the cot. The top of his hands were covered in long hair that poked out of the sleeves of the prison issue orange jumpsuit that he'd been given to wear. 

"No, Agent ..." 

"Scully," I replied. 

"Agent Thully, my injury ith inside." He thumped his chest and then his temple to demonstrate. 

Mulder said, "I'm sorry things worked out this way, Nazareth. You should have received treatment when you were young." 

He looked at Mulder like he was the stupidest creature on earth and curled his lips up, showing his yellow, pointed teeth. I flinched internally, putting on my professional mask to hide the revulsion that swept over me. That smile was evil, not because of the intrinsic deformity of his teeth, but because of the look that entered his eyes when he did it. He knew the effect it had on people, probably even on the nuns. They wouldn't have been able to hide it 100% of the time. 

His mouth closed and he turned away and said, "Wath not Godth plan for me, Agent ..." 

"Mulder," Mulder supplied. 

"Agent Mulder," he said slowly. "I thhinnkk ... it was my fate to end up right here. 

After all, I wanted to see the outhide world." 

Mulder frowned. "This isn't the outside world, Nazareth." 

He turned and looked at us. "The outthide world let me down. I guess I knew that all along. But I couldn't seem to thop myself from trying." 

"Trying?" Mulder asked. 

He peered at Mulder. "Ith this your woman?" he asked. 

I felt Mulder tense next to me. "Yes," he replied, his voice dark. Nareth nodded. 

"You're a lucky man," he said calmly. 

Mulder said, "I know that." 

He said, "Do you? Do you really know? How could you? I have lived my life alone. Oh, the nuns were good to me, schooled me. But there world is not reality, is it?" 

"It can be," I said quietly. "It's their reality." 

"But it wath not mine," he stated. "I couldn't make them understand." 

"We might be able to get you some therapy," Mulder said. 

He laughed again. "Too late for that, huh?" 

He stood and came to the bars, curling his hands around them and peering out at us. I felt Mulder stiffen, but we didn't step back. He looked from one to the other. "You feel guilt for my fate. Not your fault. To tell the truth, I'm almost glad I was caught." 

"Did you want to be caught?" Mulder asked. 

"Maybe. I juth wanted the pain to end. No one was meant to live this way. I couldn't take it anymore." 

I said, "But you hurt some very innocent women, Nazareth." 

He nodded. "Maybe I wanted thomeone to hurt with me. I will repent. God forgives all our sins, doesn't he?" 

I swallowed. "I don't know," I said honestly. 

He tilted his head. "Convenient thing about the Catholic religion. We are always forgiven." 

"I think you may be misinterpreting that tenant," I said, unable to keep the slight sarcasm out of my voice. 

He smiled that evil smile again. "Maybe we all interpret thingth the way that makes thenth to us, the way that it applies to our reality." 

He turned to Mulder. "You're reality ith much different than mine. If that wath all there wath to life, I didn't want it anymore. Can you understand that?" 

Mulder swallowed and said, "I think I can." 

He laughed again, suddenly and said, "I doubt it." 

He turned away on his heel and retreated to the bunk in the cell, sinking down and flopping over onto his back, arms behind his head. He looked like an ape in a jumpsuit. I asked, "What was that scripture you were saying when we came down?" 

"Mark 10:32-46," he replied. "I know that one by heart," he added. He then turned onto his side, his face to the wall. 

Our discussion was over. 

* * *

Scully and I both had mixed feelings about this case. The scientist in Scully was fascinated by his condition. But the woman in her was saddened and she felt pity for his fate. 

I didn't know what to feel. I knew the horrific crimes he had committed. And when I read the women's statements, all I felt was anger and I wanted him to hang from the highest tree. But when we'd spoken to him, he was so articulate, and obviously well educated. It was an illusion of civilized behavior, I realized. Then again, he was human. It was easy to forget that and very hard not to concentrate on his appearance. 

Our society had benumbed us to a lot of things, but we still had the capacity for incredible cruelty to anything we didn't understand. I understood that situation very well. Not that I was comparing my situation to his. There was no comparison. My situation was but a fraction of the mental torture he'd had to endure. I was at least a normal looking human being. People just disagreed with the way I thought, and the things I believed in. My ability to profile allowed me to learn how to get into the mind of the criminal and understand his motivations and his rationalization and justification for the behavior he displayed. I could almost understand where he had been coming from. 

It was a sad situation all around. 

We returned to D.C. the next day and went home for some much needed rest. We retreated to our respective apartments and showered, slept and recharged our batteries. One night away and I was anxious to see her again. 

We entered the Hoover Building the next day and got settled back in the office, preparing to finish our final reports on the case. The phone rang and A.D. Skinner called us up to his office. 

He congratulated us on our resolution to this case. He was very pleased. We promised reports by the next morning and retreated to the office, spending the rest of the day throwing the facts back and forth to make sure we had the chronology of our report correct. I loved working with Scully. I loved us like this, our strengths and weaknesses complimenting one another as we put together a report and fleshed out the facts and circumstances of a case. We were a great team. 

Now we were a team outside of the office and my heart swelled with emotion as I thought about the fact that Scully was officially now, "my woman." 

I grinned and she asked, "What are you smiling about?" 

I said simply, "You're my girlfriend." 

She laughed and reached out to rumple my hair with her fingers. I pulled her into my lap and she squeaked in surprise. "Mulder! Let me up!" 

"Not until I get a kiss," I answered. 

She glared at me. "We're in the office!" 

"I know that." I looked at the fire alarm and said, "Maybe they'll get it on tape." 

She chucked me in the shoulder, but bent down and kissed me. I tried to deepen it but she pulled away and I let her go. "Hold that thought," she tossed over her shoulder as she smiled and sat down behind her laptop again. 

I waggled my eyebrows and asked, "Your place or mine?" 

She smiled. "Mine." 

I nodded and turned back to my report, a new sense of urgency taking over. It would be the first time we made love on home turf. I was looking forward to it. Being in Scully's bed would cement it in my mind somehow. It would make it real for me. 

* * *

I got a wild hair and packed up a picnic dinner of cold chicken and macaroni salad, loaded up the car with blankets and sped over to Scully's place. I drove to the beach and pulled her out onto the sand. I laid the blankets carefully so she wouldn't get covered in sand. 

We knelt facing each other and undressed slowly. It was dark and cool out and I felt myself shiver as I got naked. The cool breeze peaked her nipples inot hard little buds and I couldn't resist bending down to suckle her. My urgency increased and she moaned, falling back on the blankets. I supported my weight on my elbows and asked, "Is this O.K.?" 

"What?" she panted. 

"Me on top," I clarified. 

She nodded. "Yeah, go ahead." 

"I feel wild, Scully," announced, beginning to shake with anticipation. 

"Go wild on me, Mulder." 

"You wet?" I asked, reaching for her juncture. 

She stopped me with a hand on my wrist and said, "I've been soaked since your lips touched my nipple. Just take me." 

I groaned and sank between her thighs. She wound her legs around my waist and I plunged my aching cock into her without preliminaries. She was hot and tight and wet and muscles her quivered around me, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. 

Having an incongruous thought about Nazareth, I thought of what my life would be like without this. I couldn't imagine it now. 

I made love to Scully that night with a sense of urgency, a need to make this reality, my reality. Our little talk with Nazareth had sparked something in me, a realization of just how blessed I was and a need to concentrate more on the things I had, rather than what I didn't have. And now ... I had Scully. 

I needed to remind myself that it hadn't been a dream. She was really mine. 

My aching cock drove into her with an unparalleled passion and she met me thrust for thrust, letting me take the lead from the beginning, seeming to understand my need to be in control. I pressed her ass into the shifting sand below the blanket as I sped up and increased the harshness of my thrusts. 

I cried out between thrusts, "Scully. I. Love. You. So. Much!" 

She moaned and I felt her walls wave around my hard shaft. I shouted as I spilled into her, my legs quaking from the force of my orgasm. I lay atop her for several minutes regaining my equilibrium. She pushed feebly on my shoulder and I rolled off her, realizing I was probably crushing her. 

She scooted over to my side and laid her head on my shoulder and asked, "Are you all right, Mulder?" 

"Yes, of course. Why would you think I'm not all right?" 

She looked up at me and I avoided her gaze. "It's O.K. to be afraid, you know." 

I looked at her then and she tilted her head back to meet my eyes. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, Scully." 

"Well, it hasn't happened, so why do you waste your time ruminating on it?" 

I smiled. Always the logical one, my Scully. I was jolted by that sentiment. MY. SCULLY. I said it out loud, "My Scully." 

She grinned. "MY?" she teased. 

I pulled her up onto my chest and she peered at me from above, her hair forming a curtain around our faces. "Yes," I whispered. "You're all mine, now. I warned you, remember?" 

She smiled softly. "As long as you're all MINE." 

"Always, Scully, always." 

We got dressed and drove back to her apartment, taking a shower and climbing naked into bed. 

We kissed gently and she rolled off me, presenting her back to me. I scooted behind her and spooned her body. She whispered, "I can't help but feel sorry for him. I know I shouldn't. What he did was unforgivable." 

I didn't have to ask who she was talking about. 

"I know, me too. But maybe God will forgive him one day." 

Scully nodded and then said, "I just hope our court's don't." 

I grunted and buried my nose into her hair. "I love you, Scully." 

"I love you too, Mulder." 

I squeezed her gently and she hummed in the back of her throat, a sound of utter contentment and I felt my chest swell with emotion for this tiny woman cradled in the crook of my body. I was hers for life. This was it for me. I hoped she felt the same way. I still had a little trouble believing it. 

Before I even knew I was having the thought, I blurted out, "Marry me, Scully." 

She jerked in my arms and twisted her head around to look at me. I was suddenly nervous, wondering why I'd blurted that out at that moment. That was stupid. I hadn't even been thinking about marriage ... had I? The final commitment, marriage, was something that I'd never contemplated with Scully. And suddenly, there it was, out in the open, without my even realizing I had been considering it. 

Her mouth dropped open and she asked tentatively, "Are you serious, Mulder?" 

I swallowed. "Serious as a heart attack, Scully." I bit my bottom lip and then gave her an out. "Just think about it, O.K.?" 

I couldn't hear her say No to me right now. Better to have her think about it. 

Her face softened and she said, "I don't need to think about it." 

"You don't?" I asked, feeling my heart accelerate to an alarming rate. I felt a flash of hot around my face as she maneuvered onto her back and then turned to face me. 

She asked again, "Are you sure you were serious?" 

I nodded, trying in vain to swallow the lump in my throat. "Yeah," I croaked. "I'm sure." 

She didn't say anything and I said, "You don't have to answer me now. This was not the right time to ask anyway. I don't even know why I ..." 

"Yes," she cut me off. 

I stared at her, not sure I'd heard her right. "Yes?" 

"Yes," she confirmed, smiling a secretive smile. 

I grinned so hard my face muscles ached and I descended on her, locking her mouth under mine. I kissed her fiercely until we were both out of breath. As we broke the kiss and stared at each other panting, I said, "I need to get you a ring." 

She chuckled. "Don't worry about that now." 

"No! I have to get you a ring. I just didn't even know I was going to ask tonight and I ..." 

"Shhh, calm down," she said, her voice filled with amusement. 

I smiled at her and said, "You've made me the happiest man in the world, Scully. I love you so much." 

"Well, I figure this way I won't have any doubts about whether or not you Belong to Me," she teased. 

I chuckled. "Did you have any doubts?" 

"No, not really." 

We kissed again, gently this time and when she broke away, she said, "It's better this way." 

"How so?" 

"I get to help pick out the ring." 

I smiled. "Don't trust my judgment, do you?" 

She smiled in return. "Don't know, I've never seen your taste in jewelry," she said coyly. 

I replied, "Oh Scully, you just wait. I have lots of money to spend and nobody to spend it on until now." 

She frowned. "Don't run out and start spending money like water." 

"What if I want to." 

"I'd rather you saved it for a house." 

I gasped and looked at her, feeling a sense of unreality spill over me again. "You want to buy a house together?" 

She grinned. "Maybe, let's talk about that later. Right now I need sleep." She rolled over, grinning. I spooned her again. 

I said, "What kind of house?" 

"Go to sleep, Mulder," she admonished. 

I was silent about two seconds and said, "House by the water?" 

"Go to sleep, Mulder," she scolded. 

My brain was in overdrive now. "What town?" 

"GO. TO. SLEEP. MULDER!" she said sternly, in her most School Teacher voice. But I could feel her stomach quivering with suppressed laughter where I had my hand spread out over her ribs. 

"How many bedrooms?" I asked, unable to stop teasing. 

She slapped the bed, bounced onto her back and turned to glare at me. "Sleep. Now!" 

I chuckled and kissed her again. "O.K., boss." 

She growled and rolled over again. I spooned her again, wondering what else I could pester her with. I loved to tease Scully and now that I knew I could, she was in big trouble. 

I sighed, knowing I needed to feel my way carefully. Dana Scully was going to be my wife, Good lord. I better not push my luck. That was more luck than I'd dreamed of. For once, thinking out loud and running my motor mouth hadn't gotten me in trouble. It had gotten me the most wonderful thing in the world... Scully was my fianc. 

I fell asleep with a grin on my face and my nose buried in her citrus smelling hair. 

* * *

* * *

**EPILOGUE**  
**SIX MONTHS LATER**  
**HOOVER BUILDING**  
**BASEMENT OFFICE**

"What've you got there, Scully?" Mulder asked as he shouldered his way into the room carrying a bag with Danish and balancing two cups of coffee precariously on a cardboard tray. 

"he Washington Post," I replied. 

"You read that rag?" he teased. 

"I bought it on the way in to work." 

"How come?" 

"The cover story." 

"What's the cover story?" 

"Want me to read it." 

"Yeah, if it's that interesting." 

"Oh it's interesting all right. The headline reads: WEREWOLF CONVICTED OF KIDNAPPING AND RAPE!" 

"Oh shit, yeah, read it to me," he said as he passed out the coffee and pastry and booted up his computer. 

I read: 

"A speedy trial was given for this unusual case and a mere six months after the apprehension of the perpetrator, a trial was underway in the most bizarre case this county had ever seen. 

"Kidnapping and rape are not, unfortunately, uncommon in this day and age. But men covered in hair, having lived a cloistered life and spouting scripture was very uncommon. Some called him Ape Man, others called him the Werewolf, sighting his pointed, animal like teeth, and the fact that he happened to take each of his victims while the moon was full or new. He claims this was purely coincidence. He was dubbed, The Werewolf, early in the proceedings and the moniker stuck. 

"Nazareth Garcia, a man stricken with a very rare genetic condition called, Congenital Generalized Hypertrichosis, which evidences hair all over the body, was tried and convicted yesterday. He was charged with six counts of kidnapping and raping six women, one of them a nun. He was found guilty on all counts in the speediest deliberations in the history of Virginia jury deliberation. 

"He was extradited from Tennesee where the crimes took place to have a trial in Virginia, where five of his six victims resided. The change of venue was requested by his lawyer and granted in light of the fact that the population of Tennessee was enraged and hostile toward his client, having already convicted him. Fearing for his safety in Tennessee prison, a Supreme Court judge granted the request and the proceedings were moved to Virginia where they were heard by Judge Gerald Sullivan. 

"A jury of six women and six men heard the bizarre testimony relating to the man's sequestered life inside the cloister of nuns. The defense claimed that he was deranged because of his upbringing and not responsible for his actions. Apparently, the jury didn't believe him. After a mere fifteen minutes of deliberation, they issued a unanimous decision; Guilty on all counts. They ruled against him on all counts, despite the testimony of Dr. Richard Cole, a retired internist who claimed to have delivered the infant Nazareth in 1952. Dr. Cole argued for the defendant to receive therapy and that he shouldn't be held accountable for his actions because of his horribly disfiguring disease and the unusual circumstances in which he was raised. The doctor believed that the combination had made the defendant insane. 

"Now all that remains is for Judge Sullivan to hand down his sentencing. A full twenty four hours has passed and Sullivan is still not ready to announce his decision. This must be a tough one for any judge. We will report the results as soon as they are announced. Our reporters are standing by with this latest breaking news in the Trial of the Werewolf. 

"When asked how he felt about his conviction he simply said, 'I'm glad it's all over.' He refused to give any further statement." 

* * *

We were both silent for a minute and then he said, "Is it really over, Scully?" 

"I don't know. I hope he survives prison." 

"He very well may get the death penalty." 

"I know, but I'm more afraid he won't make it through death row." 

"There's nothing we can do, Scully," he said sadly. 

I looked at him. "We can pray for him," I said. 

He raised his eyebrows and then said, "I'll try." 

That was a big concession from Mulder, the bona fide atheist. I put the paper down and walked over to him. He stood up and we kissed tenderly. "We're blessed, Mulder." 

"Yes, we are," he mumbled and kissed me again. 

I tried to break away when he deepened the kiss. I felt my knees buckle and cursed softly as I broke the kiss, hearing him chuckle with amusement. Damn, the man could still do that to me, even after six months. I was wearing a big rock on my finger and everyone knew we were a couple now. I could hear the sighs of disappointment from women up and down the halls of the Hoover Building when that announcement went out. 

Sorry girls, I thought slyly. He belongs to me! 

**THE END.**   
  


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